1001 Nights Vol 08 by Burton, Richard - Chapter 5

ALI NUR AL-DIN AND MIRIAM THE
GIRDLE-GIRL[FN#377]



There was once in days of yore and in ages and times long gone
before in the parts of Cairo, a merchant named Táj al-Dín who was
of the most considerable of the merchants and of the chiefs of
the freeborn. But he was given to travelling everywhere and loved
to fare over wild and wold, waterless lowland and stony waste,
and to journey to the isles of the seas, in quest of dirhams and
dinars: wherefore he had in his time encountered dangers and
suffered duresse of the way such as would grizzle little children
and turn their black hair grey. He was possessed of black slaves
and Mamelukes, eunuchs and concubines, and was the wealthiest of
the merchants of his time and the goodliest of them in speech,
owning horses and mules and Bactrian camels and dromedaries;
sacks great and small of size; goods and merchandise and stuffs
such as muslins of Hums, silks and brocades of Ba'allak, cotton
of Mery, stuffs of India, gauzes of Baghdad, burnouses of
Moorland and Turkish white slaves and Abyssinian castratos and
Grecian girls and Egyptian boys; and the coverings of his bales
were silk with gold purfled fair, for he was wealthy beyond
compare. Furthermore he was rare of comeliness, accomplished in
goodliness, and gracious in his kindliness, even as one of his
describers doth thus express,

"A merchant I spied whose lovers * Were fighting in furious
guise:
Quoth he, 'Why this turmoil of people?' * Quoth I, 'Trader, for
those fine eyes!'"

And saith another in his praise and saith well enough to
accomplish the wish of him,

"Came a merchant to pay us a visit * Whose glance did my heart
surprise:
Quoth he, 'What surprised thee so?' * Quoth I, 'Trader, 'twas
those fine eyes.'"

Now that merchant had a son called Ali Nur al-Din, as he were the
full moon whenas it meeteth the sight on its fourteenth night, a
marvel of beauty and loveliness, a model of form and symmetrical
grace, who was sitting one day as was his wont, in his father's
shop, selling and buying, giving and taking, when the sons of the
merchants girt him around and he was amongst them as moon among
stars, with brow flower-white and cheeks of rosy light in down
the tenderest dight, and body like alabaster-bright even as saith
of him the poet,

"'Describe me!' a fair one said. * Said I, 'Thou art Beauty's
queen.'
And, speaking briefest speech, * 'All charms in thee are seen.'"

And as saith of him one of his describers,

"His mole upon plain of cheek is like * Ambergrís-crumb on marble
plate,
And his glances likest the sword proclaim * To all Love's rebels
'The Lord is Great!'"[FN#378]

The young merchants invited him saying, "O my lord Nur al-Din, we
wish thee to go this day a-pleasuring with us in such a garden."
And he answered, "Wait till I consult my parent, for I cannot go
without his consent." As they were talking, behold, up came Taj
al-Din, and his son looked at him and said, "O father mine, the
sons of the merchants have invited me to wend a-pleasuring with
them in such a garden. Dost thou grant me leave to go?" His
father replied, "Yes, O my son, fare with them;" and gave him
somewhat of money. So the young men mounted their mules and asses
and Nur al-Din mounted a she-mule and rode with them to a garden,
wherein was all that sould desireth and that eye charmeth. It was
high of walls which from broad base were seen to rise; and it had
a gateway vault-wise with a portico like a saloon and a door
azure as the skies, as it were one of the gates of Paradise: the
name of the door-keeper was Rizwán,[FN#379] and over the gate
were trained an hundred trellises which grapes overran; and these
were of various dyes, the red like coralline, the black like the
snouts of Súdán[FN#380]-men and the white like egg of the
pigeon-hen. And in it peach and pomegranate were shown and pear,
apricot and pomegranate were grown and fruits with and without
stone hanging in clusters or alone,--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-fourth Night,

She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
the sons of the merchants entered the vergier, they found therein
all that soul desireth or eye charmeth, grapes of many hues
grown, hanging in bunches or alone, even as saith of them the
poet,

"Grapes tasting with the taste of wine * Whose coats like
blackest Raven's shine:
Their sheen, amid the leafage shows, * Like women's fingers
henna'd fine."

And as saith another on the same theme,

"Grape-bunches likest as they sway * A-stalk, my body frail and
snell:
Honey and water thus in jar, * When sourness past, make
Hydromel."

Then they entered the arbour of the garden and say there Rizwan
the gate-keeper sitting, as he were Rizwan the Paradise-guardian,
and on the door were written these lines,

"Garth Heaven-watered wherein clusters waved * On boughs which
full of sap to bend were fain:
And, when the branches danced on Zephyr's palm, * The Pleiads
shower'd as gifts[FN#381] fresh pearls for rain."

And within the arbour were written these two couplets,

"Come with us, friend, and enter thou * This garth that cleanses
rust of grief:
Over their skits the Zephyrs trip[FN#382] * And flowers in sleeve
to laugh are lief."[FN#383]

So they entered and found all manner fruits in view and birds of
every kind and hue, such as ringdove, nightingale and curlew; and
the turtle and the cushat sang their love lays on the sprays.
Therein were rills that ran with limpid wave and flowers suave;
and bloom for whose perfume we crave and it was even as saith of
it the poet in these two couplets,

"The Zephyr breatheth o'er its branches, like * Fair girls that
trip as in fair skirts they pace:
Its rills resemble swords in hands of knights * Drawn from the
scabbard and containing-case."[FN#384]

And again as singeth the songster,

"The streamlet swings by branchy wood and aye * Joys in its
breast those beauties to display;
And Zephyr noting this, for jealousy * Hastens and bends the
branches other way."

On the trees of the garden were all manner fruits, each in two
sorts, amongst them the pomegranate, as it were a ball of
silver-dross,[FN#385] whereof saith the poet and saith right
well,

"Granados of finest skin, like the breasts * Of maid
firm-standing in sight of male;
When I strip the skin, they at once display * The rubies
compelling all sense to quail."

And even as quoth another bard,

"Close prest appear to him who views th' inside * Red rubies in
brocaded skirts bedight:
Granado I compare with marble dome * Or virgin's breasts
delighting every sight:
Therein is cure for every ill as e'en * Left an Hadís the Prophet
pure of sprite;
And Allah (glorify His name) eke deigned * A noble say in Holy
Book indite.[FN#386]

The apples were the sugared and the musky and the Dámáni, amazing
the beholder, whereof saith Hassan the poet,

"Apple which joins hues twain, and brings to mind * The cheek of
lover and beloved combined:
Two wondrous opposites on branch they show * This dark[FN#387]
and that with hue incarnadined
The twain embraced when spied the spy and turned * This red, that
yellow for the shame designed."[FN#388]

There also were apricots of various kinds, almond and camphor and
Jíláni and 'Antábi,[FN#389] wereof saith the poet,

"And Almond-apricot suggesting swain * Whose lover's visit all
his wits hath ta'en.
Enough of love-sick lovers' plight it shows * Of face deep yellow
and heart torn in twain."[FN#390]

And saith another and saith well,

"Look at that Apricot whose bloom contains * Gardens with
brightness gladding all men's eyne:
Like stars the blossoms sparkle when the boughs * Are clad in
foliage dight with sheen and shine."

There likewise were plums and cherries and grapes, that the sick
of all diseases assain and do away giddiness and yellow choler
from the brain; and figs the branches between, varicoloured red
and green, amazing sight and sense, even as saith the poet,

"'Tis as the Figs with clear white skins outthrown * By foliaged
trees, athwart whose green they peep,
Were sons of Roum that guard the palace-roof * When shades close
in and night-long ward they keep."[FN#391]

And saith another and saith well,

"Welcome[FN#392] the Fig! To us it comes * Ordered in handsome
plates they bring:
Likest a Surfah[FN#393]-cloth we draw * To shape of bag without a
ring."

And how well saith a third,

"Give me the Fig sweet-flavoured, beauty-clad, * Whose inner
beauties rival outer sheen:
And when it fruits thou tastest it to find * Chamomile's scent
and Sugar's saccharine:
And eke it favoureth on platters poured * Puff-balls of silken
thread and sendal green."

And how excellent is the saying of one of them,

"Quoth they (and I had trained my taste thereto * Nor cared for
other fruits whereby they swore),
'Why lovest so the Fig?' whereto quoth I * 'Some men love Fig and
others Sycamore.[FN#394]'"

And are yet goodlier those of another,

"Pleaseth me more the fig than every fruit * When ripe and
hanging from the sheeny bough;
Like Devotee who, when the clouds pour rain, * Sheds tears and
Allah's power doth avow."

And in that garth were also pears of various kinds
Sinaïtic,[FN#395] Aleppine and Grecian growing in clusters and
alone, parcel green and parcel golden.--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-fifth Night,

She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
merchants' sons went down into the garth they saw therein all the
fruits we mentioned and found pears Sinaïtic, Aleppine and
Grecian of every hue, which here clustering there single grew,
parcel green and parcel yellow to the gazer a marvel-view, as
saith of them the poet,


"With thee that Pear agree, whose hue a-morn * Is hue of hapless
lover yellow pale;
Like virgin cloistered strait in strong Harím * Whose face like
racing steed outstrips the veil."

And Sultani[FN#396] peaches of shades varied, yellow and red,
whereof saith the poet,

"Like Peach in vergier growing * And sheen of Andam[FN#397]
showing:
Whose balls of yellow gold * Are dyed with blood-gouts flowing."

There were also green almonds of passing sweetness, resembling
the cabbage[FN#398] of the palm-tree, with their kernels within
three tunics lurking of the Munificent King's handiworking, even
as is said of them,

"Three coats yon freshest form endue * God's work of varied shape
and hue:
Hardness surrounds it night and day; * Prisoning without a sin to
rue."

And as well saith another,

"Seest not that Almond plucked by hand * Of man from bough where
wont to dwell:
Peeling it shows the heart within * As union-pearl in oyster-
shell."

And as saith a third better than he,

"How good is Almond green I view! * The smallest fills the hand
of you:
Its nap is as the down upon * The cheeks where yet no beardlet
grew:
Its kernels in the shell are seen, * Or bachelors or married two,
As pearls they were of lucent white * Casèd and lapped in
Jasper's hue."

And as saith yet another and saith well,

"Mine eyes ne'er looked on aught the Almond like * For charms,
when blossoms[FN#399] in the Prime show bright:
Its head to hoariness of age inclines * The while its cheek by
youth's fresh down is dight."

And jujube-plums of various colours, grown in clusters and alone
whereof saith one, describing them,

"Look at the Lote-tree, note on boughs arrayed * Like goodly
apricots on reed-strown floor,[FN#400]
Their morning-hue to viewer's eye is like * Cascavels[FN#401]
cast of purest golden ore."

And as saith another and saith right well,

"The Jujube-tree each Day * Robeth in bright array.
As though each pome thereon * Would self to sight display.
Like falcon-bell of gold * Swinging from every spray."

And in that garth grew blood oranges, as they were the
Khaulanján,[FN#402] whereof quoth the enamoured poet,[FN#403]

"Red fruits that fill the hand, and shine with sheen * Of fire,
albe the scarf-skin's white as snow.
'Tis marvel snow on fire doth never melt * And, stranger still,
ne'er burns this living lowe!"

And quoth another and quoth well,

"And trees of Orange fruiting ferly fair * To those who straitest
have their charms surveyed;
Like cheeks of women who their forms have decked * For holiday in
robes of gold brocade."

And yet another as well,

"Like are the Orange-hills[FN#404] when Zephyr breathes * Swaying
the boughs and spray with airy grace,
Her cheeks that glow with lovely light when met * At greeting-
tide by cheeks of other face."

And a fourth as fairly,

"And fairest Fawn, we said to him 'Portray * This garth and
oranges thine eyes survey:'
And he, 'Your garden favoureth my face * Who gathereth orange
gathereth fire alway.'"

In that garden too grew citrons, in colour as virgin gold,
hanging down from on high and dangling among the branches, as
they were ingots of growing gold;[FN#405] and saith thereof the
'namoured poet,

"Hast seen a Citron-copse so weighed adown * Thou fearest bending
roll their fruit on mould;
And seemed, when Zephyr passed athwart the tree * Its branches
hung with bells of purest gold?"

And shaddocks,[FN#406] that among their boughs hung laden as
though each were the breast of a gazelle-like maiden, contenting
the most longing wight, as saith of them the poet and saith
aright,

"And Shaddock mid the garden-paths, on bough * Freshest like
fairest damsel met my sight;
And to the blowing of the breeze it bent * Like golden ball to
bat of chrysolite."

And the lime sweet of scent, which resembleth a hen's egg, but
its yellowness ornamenteth its ripe fruit, and its fragrance
hearteneth him who plucketh it, as saith the poet who singeth it,

"Seest not the Lemon, when it taketh form, * Catch rays of light
and all to gaze constrain;
Like egg of pullet which the huckster's hand * Adorneth dyeing
with the saffron-stain?"

Moreover in this garden were all manner of other fruits and
sweet-scented herbs and plants and fragrant flowers, such as
jessamine and henna and water-lilies[FN#407] and
spikenard[FN#408] and roses of every kind and plantain[FN#409]
and myrtle and so forth; and indeed it was without compare,
seeming as it were a piece of Paradise to whoso beheld it. If a
sick man entered it, he came forth from it like a raging lion,
and tongue availeth not to its description, by reason of that
which was therein of wonders and rarities which are not found but
in Heaven: and how should it be otherwise when its doorkeeper's
name was Rizman? Though widely different were the stations of
those twain! Now when the sons of the merchants had walked about
gazing at the garden after taking their pleasure therein, they
say down in one of its pavilions and seated Nur al-Din in their
midst.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-sixth Night,

She resume, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
sons of the merchants sat down in the pavilion they seated Nur
al-Din in their midst on a rug of gold-purfled leather of
Al-Táif,[FN#410] leaning on a pillow[FN#411] of minever, stuffed
with ostrich down. And they gave him a fan of ostrich feathers,
whereon were written these two couplets,

"A fan whose breath is fraught with fragrant scent; * Minding of
happy days and times forspent,
Wafting at every time its perfumed air * O'er face of noble youth
on honour bent."

Then they laid by their turbands and outer clothes and sat
talking and chatting and inducing one another to discourse, while
they all kept their eyes fixed on Nur al-Din and gazed on his
beauteous form. After the sitting had lasted an hour or so, up
came a slave with a tray on his head, wherein were platters of
china and crystal containing viands of all sorts (for one of the
youths had so charged his people before coming to the garden);
and the meats were of whatever walketh earth or wingeth air or
swimmeth waters, such as Katá-grouse and fat quails and
pigeon-poults and mutton and chickens and the delicatest fish.
So, the tray being sat before them, they fell to and ate their
fill; and when they had made an end of eating, they rose from
meat and washed their hands with pure water and musk-scented
soap, and dried them with napery embroidered in silk and bugles;
but to Nur al-Din they brought a napkin laced with red gold
whereon he wiped his hands. Then coffee[FN#412] was served up and
each drank what he would, after which they sat talking, till
presently the garden-keeper who was young went away and returning
with a basket full of roses, said to them, "What say ye, O my
masters, to flowers?" Quoth one of them, "There is no harm in
them,[FN#413] especially roses, which are not to be resisted."
Answered the gardener, "'Tis well, but it is of our wont not to
give roses but in exchange for pleasant converse; so whoever
would take aught thereof, let him recite some verses suitable to
the situation." Now they were ten sons of merchants of whom one
said, "Agreed: give me thereof and I will recite thee somewhat of
verse apt to the case." Accordingly the gardener gave him a bunch
of roses[FN#414] which he took and at once improvised these three
couplets,

"The Rose in highest stead I rate * For that her charms ne'er
satiate;
All fragrant flow'rs be troops to her * Their general of high
estate:
Where she is not they boast and vaunt; * But, when she comes,
they stint their prate."

Then the gardener gave a bunch to another and he recited these
two couplets,

"Take, O my lord, to thee the Rose * Recalling scent by mush be
shed.
Like virginette by lover eyed * Who with her sleeves[FN#415]
enveileth head."

Then he gave a bunch to a third who recited these two couplets,

"Choice Rose that gladdens heart to see her sight; * Of Nadd
recalling fragrance exquisite.
The branchlets clip her in her leaves for joy, * Like kiss of
lips that never spake in spite."

Then he gave a bunch to a fourth and he recited these two
couplets,

"Seest not that rosery where Rose a-flowering displays * Mounted
upon her steed of stalk those marvels manifold?
As though the bud were ruby-stone and girded all around * With
chrysolite and held within a little hoard of gold."

Then he gave a posy to a fifth and he recited these two couplets,

"Wands of green chrysolite bare issue, which * Were fruits like
ingots of the growing gold.[FN#416]
And drops, a dropping from its leaves, were like * The tears my
languorous eyelids railed and rolled."

Then he gave a sixth a bunch and he recited these two couplets,

"O Rose, thou rare of charms that dost contain * All gifts and
Allah's secrets singular,
Thou'rt like the loved one's cheek where lover fond * And fain of
Union sticks the gold dinar."[FN#417]

Then he gave a bunch to a seventh and he recited these two
couplets,

"To Rose quoth I, 'What gars thy thorns to be put forth * For all
who touch thee cruellest injury?'
Quoth she, 'These flowery troops are troops of me * Who be their
lord with spines for armoury.'"

And he gave an eighth a bunch and he recited these two couplets,

"Allah save the Rose which yellows a-morn * Florid, vivid and
likest the nugget-ore;
And bless the fair sprays that displayed such fowers * And mimic
suns gold-begilded bore."

Then he gave a bunch to a ninth and he recited these two
couplets,

"The bushes of golden-hued Rose excite * In the love-sick lover
joys manifold:
'Tis a marvel shrub watered every day * With silvern lymph and it
fruiteth gold."

Then he gave a bunch of roses to the tenth and last and he
recited these two couplets,

"Seest not how the hosts of the Rose display * Red hues and
yellow in rosy field?
I compare the Rose and her arming thorn * To emerald lance
piercing golden shield."

And whilst each one hent bunch in hand, the gardener brought the
wine-service and setting it before them, on a tray of porcelain
arabesqued with red gold, recited these two couplets,

"Dawn heralds day-light: so wine pass round, * Old wine, fooling
sage till his wits he tyne:
Wot I not for its purest clarity * An 'tis wine in cup or 'tis
cup in wine."[FN#418]

Then the gardener filled and drank and the cup went round, till
it came to Nur al-Din's turn, whereupon the man filled and handed
it to him; but he said, "This thing I wot it not nor have I ever
drunken thereof, for therein is great offence and the Lord of
All-might hath forbidden it in His Book." Answered the gardener,
"O my Lord Nur al-Din, an thou forbear to drink only by reason of
the sin, verily Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) is bountiful,
of sufferance great, forgiving and compassionate and pardoneth
the mortalest sins: His mercy embraceth all things, Allah's ruth
be upon the poet who saith,

'Be as thou, wilt, for Allah is bountiful * And when thou sinnest
feel thou naught alarm:
But 'ware of twofold sins nor ever dare * To give God partner or
mankind to harm.'"

Then quoth one of the sons of the merchants, "My life on thee, O
my lord Nur al-Din, drink of this cup!" And another conjured him
by the oath of divorce and yet another stood up persistently
before him, till he was ashamed and taking the cup from the
gardener, drank a draught, but spat it out again, crying, "'Tis
bitter." Said the young gardener, "O my lord Nur al-Din, knowest
thou not that sweets taken by way of medicine are bitter? Were
this not bitter, 'twould lack of the manifold virtues it
possesseth; amongst which are that it digesteth food and
disperseth cark and care and dispelleth flatulence and clarifieth
the blood and cleareth the complexion and quickeneth the body and
hearteneth the hen-hearted and fortifieth the sexual power in
man; but to name all its virtues would be tedious. Quoth one of
the poets,

'We'll drink and Allah pardon sinners all * And cure of ills by
sucking cups I'll find:
Nor aught the sin deceives me; yet said He * 'In it there be
advantage[FN#419] to mankind.'"

Then he sprang up without stay or delay and opened one of the
cupboards in the pavilion and taking out a loaf of refined sugar,
broke off a great slice which he put into Nur al-Din's cup,
saying, "O my lord, an thou fear to drink wine, because of its
bitterness, drink now, for 'tis sweet." So he took the cup and
emptied it: whereupon one of his comrades filled him another,
saying, "O my lord Nur al-Din, I am thy slave," and another did
the like, saying, "I am one of thy servants," and a third said,
"For my sake!" and a fourth, "Allah upon thee, O my lord Nur
al-Din, heal my heart!" And so they ceased not plying him with
wine, each and every of the ten sons of merchants till they had
made him drink a total of ten cups. Now Nur al-Din's body was
virgin of wine-bibbing, or never in all his life had he drunken
vine-juice till that hour, wherefore its fumes wrought in his
brain and drunkenness was stark upon him and he stood up (and
indeed his tongue was thick and his speech stammering) and said,
"O company, by Allah, ye are fair and your speech is goodly and
your place pleasant; but there needeth hearing of sweet music;
for drink without melody lacks the chief of its essentiality,
even as saith the poet,

'Pass round the cup to the old and the young man, too, And take
the bowl from the hand of the shining moon,[FN#420]
But without music, I charge you, forbear to drink; I see even
horses drink to a whistled tune.'"[FN#421]


Therewith up sprang the gardener lad and mounting one of the
young men's mules, was absent awhile, after which he returned
with a Cairene girl, as she were a sheep's tail, fat and
delicate, or an ingot of pure silvern ore or a dinar on a
porcelain plate or a gazelle in the wold forlore. She had a face
that put to shame the shining sun and eyes Babylonian[FN#422] and
brows like bows bended and cheeks rose-painted and teeth
pearly-hued and lips sugared and glances languishing and breast
ivory white and body slender and slight, full of folds and with
dimples dight and hips like pillows stuffed and thighs like
columns of Syrian stone, and between them what was something like
a sachet of spices in wrapper swathed. Quoth the poet of her in
these couplets,

"Had she shown her shape to idolaters' sight, * They would gaze
on her face and their gods detest:
And if in the East to a monk she'd show'd, * He'd quit Eastern
posture and bow to West.[FN#423]
An she crached in the sea and the briniest sea * Her lips would
give it the sweetest zest."

And quoth another in these couplets,

"Brighter than Moon at full with kohl'd eyes she came * Like Doe,
on chasing whelps of Lioness intent:
Her night of murky locks lets fall a tent on her * A tent of
hair[FN#424] that lacks no pegs to hold the tent;
And roses lighting up her roseate cheeks are fed * By hearts and
livers flowing fire for languishment:
An 'spied her all the Age's Fair to her they'd rise *
Humbly,[FN#425] and cry 'The meed belongs to precedent!'"

And how well saith a third bard,[FN#426]

"Three things for ever hinder her to visit us, for fear Of the
intriguing spy and eke the rancorous envier;
Her forehead's lustre and the sound of all her ornaments And the
sweet scent her creases hold of ambergris and myrth.
Grant with the border of her sleeve she hide her brow and doff
Her ornaments, how shall she do her scent away from her?"

She was like the moon when at fullest on its fourteenth night,
and was clad in a garment of blue, with a veil of green,
overbrown flower-white that all wits amazed and those of
understanding amated.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying his permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
gardener brought a girl whom we have described, possessed of the
utmost beauty and loveliness and fine stature and symmetrical
grace as it were she the poet signified when he said,[FN#427]

"She came apparelled in a vest of blue,
That mocked the skies and shamed their azure hue;
I thought thus clad she burst upon my sight,
Like summer moonshine on a wintry night."

And how goodly is the saying of another and how excellent,

"She came thick veiled, and cried I, 'O display * That face like
full moon bright with pure-white ray.'
Quoth she, 'I fear disgrace,' quoth I, 'Cut short * This talk, no
shift of days thy thoughts affray.'
Whereat she raised her veil from fairest face * And crystal spray
on gems began to stray:
And I forsooth was fain to kiss her cheek, * Lest she complain of
me on Judgment-Day.
And at such tide before the Lord on High * We first of lovers
were redress to pray:
So 'Lord, prolong this reckoning and review' * (Prayed I) 'that
longer I may sight my may.'"

Then said the young gardener to her, "Know thou, O lady of the
fair, brighter than any constellation which illumineth air we
sought, in bringing thee hither naught but that thou shouldst
entertain with converse this comely youth, my lord Nur al-Din,
for he hath come to this place only this day." And the girl
replied, "Would thou hadst told me, that I might have brought
what I have with me!" Rejoined the gardener, "O my lady, I will
go and fetch it to thee." "As thou wilt," said she: and he, "Give
me a token." So she gave him a kerchief and he fared forth in
haste and returned after awhile, bearing a green satin bag with
slings of gold. The girl took the bag from him and opening it
shook it, whereupon there fell thereout two-and-thirty pieces of
wood, which she fitted one into other, male into female and
female into male[FN#428] till they became a polished lute of
Indian workmanship. Then she uncovered her wrists and laying the
lute in her lap, bent over it with the bending of mother over
babe, and swept the strings with her finger-tips; whereupon it
moaned and resounded and after its olden home yearned; and it
remembered the waters that gave it drink and the earth whence it
sprang and wherein it grew and it minded the carpenters who made
it their merchandise and the ships that shipped it; and it cried
and called aloud and moaned and groaned; and it was as if she
asked it of all these things and it answered her with the tongue
of the case, reciting these couplets,[FN#429]

"A tree whilere was I the Bulbul's home * To whom for love I
bowed my grass-green head:
They moaned on me, and I their moaning learnt * And in that moan
my secret all men read:
The woodman fell me falling sans offence, * And slender lute of
me (as view ye) made:
But, when the fingers smite my strings, they tell * How man
despite my patience did me dead;
Hence boon-companions when they hear my moan * Distracted wax as
though by wine misled:
And the Lord softens every heart of me, * And I am hurried to the
highmost stead:
All who in charms excel fain clasp my waist; * Gazelles of
languid eyne and Houri maid:
Allah ne'er part fond lover from his joy * Nor live the loved one
who unkindly fled."

Then the girl was silent awhile, but presently taking the lute in
lap, again bent over it, as mother bendeth over child, and
preluded in many different modes; then, returning to the first,
she sang these couplets,

"Would they [FN#430] the lover seek without ado, * He to his
heavy grief had bid adieu:
With him had vied the Nightingale[FN#431] on bough * As one far
parted from his lover's view:
Rouse thee! awake! The Moon lights Union-night * As tho' such
Union woke the Morn anew.
This day the blamers take of us no heed * And lute-strings bid us
all our joys ensue.
Seest not how four-fold things conjoin in one * Rose, myrtle,
scents and blooms of golden hue.[FN#432]
Yea, here this day the four chief joys unite * Drink and dinars,
beloved and lover true:
So win thy worldly joy, for joys go past * And naught but storied
tales and legends last."

When Nur al-Din heard the girl sing these lines he looked on her
with eyes of love and could scarce contain himself for the
violence of his inclination to her; and on like wise was it with
her, because she glanced at the company who were present of the
sons of the merchants and she saw that Nur al-Din was amongst the
rest as moon among stars; for that he was sweet of speech and
replete with amorous grace, perfect in stature and symmetry,
brightness and loveliness, pure of all defect, than the breeze of
morn softer, than Tasnim blander, as saith of him the
poet,[FN#433]

"By his cheeks' unfading damask and his smiling teeth I swear, By
the arros that he feathers with the witchery of his air,
By his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,
By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his
hair,
By his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from my lids
With their yeas and noes that hold me 'twixt rejoicing and
despair,
By the Scorpions that he launches from his ringlet-clustered
brows, Seeking still to slay his lovers with his rigours
unaware,
By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheek, By his
lips' incarnate rubies and his teeth's fine pearls and rare,
By the straight and tender sapling of his shape, which for its
fruit Doth the twin pomegranates, shining in his snowy
bosom, wear,
By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And
the slender waist above them, all too slight their weight to
bear,
By the silk of his apparel and his quick and sprightly wit, By
all attributes of beauty that are fallen to his share;
Lo, the musk exhales its fragrance from his breath, and eke the
breeze From his scent the perfume borrows, that it scatters
everywhere.
Yea, the sun in all his splendour cannot with his brightness vie
And the crescent moon's a fragment that he from his nails
doth pare."

--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night,

She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur
al-Din was delighted with the girl's verses and he swayed from
side to side for drunkenness and fell a-praising her and saying,

"A lutanist to us inclined * And stole our wits bemused with
wine:
And said to us her lute, 'The Lord * Bade us discourse by voice
divine.'"

When she heard him thus improvise the girl gazed at him with
loving eyes and redoubled in passion and desire for him increased
upon her, and indeed she marvelled at his beauty and loveliness,
symmetry and grace, so that she could not contain herself, but
took the lute in lap again and sang these couplets,

"He blames me for casting on him my sight * And parts fro' me
bearing my life and sprite:
He repels me but kens what my heart endures * As though Allah
himself had inspired the wight:
I portrayed his portrait in palm of hand * And cried to mine
eyes, 'Weep your doleful plight.'
For neither shall eyes of me spy his like * Nor my heart have
patience to bear its blight:
Wherefore, will I tear thee from breast, O Heart * As one who
regards him with jealous spite.
And when say I, 'O heart be consoled for pine,' * 'Tis that heart
to none other shall e'er incline:"

Nur al-Din wondered at the charms of her verse and the elegance
of her expression and the sweetness of her voice and the
eloquence of her speech and his wit fled for stress of love and
longing, and ecstasy and distraction, so that he could not
refrain from her a single moment, but bent to her and strained
her to his bosom: and she in like manner bowed her form over his
and abandoned herself to his embrace and bussed him between the
eyes. Then he kissed her on the mouth and played with her at
kisses, after the manner of the billing of doves; and she met him
with like warmth and did with him as she was done by till the
others were distracted and rose to their feet; whereupon Nur
al-Din was ashamed and held his hand from her. Then she took her
lute and, preluding thereon in manifold modes, lastly returned to
the first and sang these couplets,

"A Moon, when he bends him those eyes lay bare * A brand that
gars gazing gazelle despair:
A King, rarest charms are the host of him * And his lance-like
shape men with cane compare:
Were his softness of sides to his heart transferred * His friend
had not suffered such cark and care:
Ah for hardest heart and for softest sides! * Why not that to
these alter, make here go there?
O thou who accusest my love excuse: * Take eternal and leave me
the transient share."[FN#434]

When Nur al-Din heard the sweetness of her voice and the rareness
of her verse, he inclined to her for delight and could not
contain himself for excess of wonderment; so he recited these
couplets.

"Methought she was the forenoon sun until she donned the veil *
But lit she fire in vitals mine still flaring fierce and
high,
How had it hurt her an she deigned return my poor salám * With
fingertips or e'en vouchsafed one little wink of eye?
The cavalier who spied her face was wholly stupefied * By charms
that glorify the place and every charm outvie.
'Be this the Fair who makes thee pine and long for love liesse? *
Indeed thou art excused!' 'This is my fairest she;'(quoth I)
Who shot me with the shaft of looks nor deigns to rue my woes *
Of strangerhood and broken heart and love I must aby:
I rose a-morn with vanquished heart, to longing love a prey * And
weep I through the live long day and all the night I cry."

The girl marvelled at his eloquence and elegance and taking her
lute, smote thereon with the goodliest of performance, repeating
all the melodies, and sang these couplets,

"By the life o' thy face, O thou life o' my sprite! * I'll ne'er
leave thy love for despair or delight:
When art cruel thy vision stands hard by my side * And the
thought of thee haunts me when far from sight:
O who saddenest my glance albe weeting that I * No love but thy
love will for ever requite?
Thy cheeks are of Rose and thy lips-dews are wine; * Say, wilt
grudge them to us in this charming site?"

Hereat Nur al-Din was gladdened with extreme gladness and
wondered with the utmost wonder, so he answered her verse with
these couplets,

"The sun yellowed not in the murk gloom li'en * But lay pearl
enveiled 'neath horizon-chine;
Nor showed its crest to the eyes of Morn * But took refuge from
parting with Morning-shine.[FN#435]
Take my tear-drops that trickle as chain on chain * And they'll
tell my case with the clearest sign.
An my tears be likened to Nile-flood, like * Malak's[FN#436]
flooded flat be this love o'mine.
Quoth she, 'Bring thy riches!' Quoth I, 'Come, take!' * 'And thy
sleep?' 'Yes, take it from lids of eyne!'"

When the girl heard Nur al-Din's words and noted the beauty of
his eloquence her senses fled and her wit was dazed and love of
him gat hold upon her whole heart. So she pressed him to her
bosom and fell to kissing him like the billing of doves, whilst
he returned her caresses with successive kisses; but preeminence
appertaineth to precedence.[FN#437] When she had made an end of
kissing, she took the lute and recited these couplets,

"Alas, alack and well-away for blamer's calumny! * Whether or not
I make my moan or plead or show no plea:
O spurner of my love I ne'er of thee so hard would deem * That I
of thee should be despised, of thee my property.
I wont at lovers' love to rail and for their passion chide, * But
now I fain debase myself to all who rail at thee:
Yea, only yesterday I wont all amourists to blame * But now I
pardon hearts that pine for passion's ecstasy;
And of my stress of parting-stowre on me so heavy weighs * At
morning prayer to Him I'll cry, 'In thy name, O Ali!'"

And also these two couplets,

"His lovers said, 'Unless he deign to give us all a drink * Of
wine, of fine old wine his lips deal in their purity;
We to the Lord of Threefold Worlds will pray to grant our prayer'
* And all exclaim with single cry 'In thy name, O Ali!'"

Nur al-Din, hearing these lines and their rhyme, marvelled at the
fluency of her tongue and thanked her, praising her grace and
passing seductiveness; and the damsel, delighted at his praise,
arose without stay or delay and doffing that was upon her of
outer dress and trinkets till she was free of all encumbrance sat
down on his knees and kissed him between the eyes and on his
cheek-mole. Then she gave him all she had put off.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,

She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the girl
gave to Nur al-Din all she had doffed, saying, "O beloved of my
heart, in very sooth the gift is after the measure of the giver."
So he accepted this from her and gave it back to her and kissed
her on the mouth and cheeks and eyes. When this was ended and
done, for naught is durable save the Living, the Eternal,
Provider of the peacock and the owl,[FN#438] Nur al-Din rose from
the séance and stood upon his feet, because the darkness was now
fallen and the stars shone out; whereupon quoth the damsel to
him, "Whither away, O my lord?"; and quoth he, "To my father's
home." Then the sons of the merchants conjured him to night with
them, but he refused and mounting his shemule, rode, without
stopping, till he reached his parent's house, where his mother
met him and said to him, "O my son, what hath kept thee away till
this hour? By Allah, thou hast troubled myself and thy sire by
thine absence from us, and our hearts have been occupied with
thee." Then she came up to him, to kiss him on his mouth, and
smelling the fumes of the wine, said, "O my wine-bibber and a
rebel against Him to whom belong creation and commandment?" But
Nur al-Din threw himself down on the bed and lay there. Presently
in came his sire and said, "What aileth Nur al-Din to lie thus?";
and his mother answered, "'Twould seem his head acheth for the
air of the garden." So Taj al-Din went up to his son, to ask him
of his ailment, and salute him, and smelt the reek of
wine.[FN#439] Now the merchant loved not wine-drinkers; so he
said to Nur al-Din, "Woe to thee, O my son! Is folly come to such
a pass with thee, that thou drinkest wine?" When Nur al-Din heard
his sire say this, he raised his hand, being yet in his
drunkenness, and dealt him a buffet, when by decree of the
Decreer the blow lit on his father's right eye which rolled down
on his cheek; whereupon he fell a-swoon and lay therein awhile.
They sprinkled rose-water on him till he recovered, when he would
have beaten his son; but the mother withheld him, and he swore,
by the oath of divorce from his wife that, as soon as morning
morrowed, he would assuredly cut off his son's right
hand.[FN#440] When she heard her husband's words, her breast was
straitened and she feared for he son and ceased not to soothe and
appease his sire, till sleep overcame him. Then she waited till
moon-rise, when she went in to her son, whose drunkenness had now
departed from him, and said to him, "O Nur al-Din, what is this
foul deed thou diddest with thy sire?" He asked, "And what did I
with him?"; and answered she, "Thou dealtest him a buffet on the
right eye and struckest it out so that it rolled down his cheek;
and he hath sworn by the divorce-oath that, as soon as morning
shall morrow he will without fail cut off thy right hand." Nur
al-Din repented him of that he had done, whenas repentance
profited him naught, and his mother sait to him, "O my son, this
penitence will not profit thee; nor will aught avail thee but
that thou arise forthwith and seek safety in flight: go forth the
house privily and take refuge with one of thy friends and there
what Allah shall do await, for he changeth case after case and
state upon state." Then she opened a chest and taking out a purse
of an hundred dinars said, "O my son, take these dinars and
provide thy wants therewith, and when they are at an end, O my
son, send and let me know thereof, that I may send thee other
than these, and at the same time covey to me news of thyself
privily: haply Allah will decree thee relief and thou shalt
return to thy home. And she farewelled him and wept passing sore,
nought could be more. Thereupon Nur al-Din took the purse of gold
and was about to go forth, when he espied a great purse
containing a thousand dinars, which his mother had forgotten by
the side of the chest. So he took this also and binding the two
purses about his middle,[FN#441] set out before dawn threading
the streets in the direction of Búlák, where he arrived when day
broke and all creatures arose, attesting the unity of Allah the
Opener and went forth each of them upon his several business, to
win that which Allah had unto him allotted. Reaching Bulak he
walked on along the riverbank till he sighted a ship with her
gangway out and her four anchors made fast to the land. The folk
were going up into her and coming down from her, and Nur al-Din,
seeing some sailors there standing, asked them whither they were
bound, and they answered, "To Rosetta-city." Quoth he, "Take me
with you;" and quoth they, "Well come, and welcome to thee, to
thee, O goodly one!" So he betook himself forthright to the
market and buying what he needed of vivers and bedding and
covering, returned to the port and went on board the ship, which
was ready to sail and tarried with him but a little while before
she weighed anchor and fared on, without stopping, till she
reached Rosetta,[FN#442] where Nur al-Din saw a small boat going
to Alexandria. So he embarked in it and traversing the sea-arm of
Rosetta fared on till he came to a bridge called Al-Jámí, where
he landed and entered Alexandria by the gate called the Gate of
the Lote-tree. Allah protected him, so that none of those who
stood on guard at the gate saw him, and he walked on till he
entered the city.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventieth Night,

She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur
al-Din entered Alexandria he found it a city goodly of
pleasaunces, delightful to its inhabitants and inviting to
inhabit therein. Winter had fared from it with his cold and Prime
was come to it with his roses: its flowers were kindly ripe and
welled forth its rills. Indeed, it was a city goodly of ordinance
and disposition; its folk were of the best of men, and when the
gates thereof were shut, its folk were safe.[FN#443] And it was
even as is said of it in these couplets,

"Quoth I to a comrade one day, * A man of good speech and rare,
'Describe Alexandria.' * Quoth he, 'Tis a march-town fair.'
Quoth I, 'Is there living therein?' * And he, 'An the wind blow
there.'"

Or as saith one of the poets,

"Alexandria's a frontier;[FN#444] Whose dews of lips are sweet
and clear;
How fair the coming to it is, * So one therein no raven speer!"


Nur al-Din walked about the city and ceased not walking till her
came to the merchants' bazar, whence he passed on to the mart of
the money-changers and so on in turn to the markets of the
confectioners and fruiterers and druggists, marvelling, as he
went, at the city, for that the nature of its qualities accorded
with its name.[FN#445] As he walked in the druggists' bazar,
behold, an old man came down from his shop and saluting him, took
him by the hand and carried him to his home. And Nur al-Din saw a
fair bystreet, swept and sprinkled, whereon the zephyr blew and
made pleasantness pervade it and the leaves of the trees
overshaded it. Therein stood three houses and at the upper end a
mansion, whose foundations were firm sunk in the water and its
walls towered to the confines of the sky. They had swept the
space before it and they had sprinkled it freshly; so it exhaled
the fragrance of flowers, borne on the zephyr which breathed upon
the place; and the scent met there who approached it on such wise
as it were one of the gardens of Paradise. And, as they had
cleaned and cooed the by-street's head, so was the end of it with
marble spread. The Shaykh carried Nur al-Din into the house and
setting somewhat of food before him ate with his guest. When they
had made an end of eating, the druggist said to him, "When camest
thou hither from Cairo?"; and Nur al-Din replied, "This very
night, O my father." Quoth the old man, "What is thy name?"; and
quoth he, "Ali Nur al-Din." Said the druggist, "O my son, O Nur
al-Din, be the triple divorce incumbent on me, an thou leave me
so long as thou abidest in this city; and I will set thee apart a
place wherein thou mayst dwell." Nur al-Din asked, "O my lord the
Shaykh, let me know more of thee"; and the other answered, "Know,
O my son, that some years ago I went to Cairo with merchandise,
which I sold there and bought other, and I had occasion for a
thousand dinars. So thy sire Taj al-Din weighed them out[FN#446]
for me, all unknowing me, and would take no written word of me,
but had patience with me till I returned hither and sent him the
amount by one of my servants, together with a gift. I saw thee,
whilst thou wast little; and, if it please Allah the Most High, I
will repay thee somewhat of the kindness thy father did me." When
Nur al-Din heard the old man's story, he showed joy and pulling
out with a smile the purse of a thousand dinars, gave it to his
host the Shaykh and said to him, "Take charge of this deposit for
me, against I buy me somewhat of merchandise whereon to trade."
Then he abode some time in Alexandria city taking his pleasure
every day in its thoroughfares, eating and drinking ad indulging
himself with mirth and merriment till he had made an end of the
hundred dinars he had kept by way of spending-money; whereupon he
repaired to the old druggist, to take of him somewhat of the
thousand dinars to spend, but found him not in his shop and took
a seat therein to await his return. He sat there gazing right and
left and amusing himself with watching the merchants and
passers-by, and as he was thus engaged behold, there came into
the bazar a Persian riding on a she-mule and carrying behind him
a damsel; as she were argent of alloy free or a fish
Balti[FN#447] in mimic sea or a doe-gazelle on desert lea. Her
face outshone the sun in shine and she had witching eyne and
breasts of ivory white, teeth of marguerite, slender waist and
sides dimpled deep and calves like tails of fat sheep;[FN#448]
and indeed she was perfect in beauty and loveliness, elegant
stature and symmetrical grace, even as saith one, describing
her,[FN#449]

"'Twas as by will of her she was create * Nor short nor long, but
Beauty's mould and mate:
Rose blushes reddest when she sees those cheeks * And fruits the
bough those marvel charms amate:
Moon is her favour, Musk the scent of her * Branch is her shape:–
she passeth man's estate:
'Tis e'en as were she cast in freshest pearl * And every limblet
shows a moon innate."

Presently the Persian lighted down from his she-mule and, making
the damsel also dismount, loudly summoned the broker and said to
him as soon as he came, "Take this damsel and cry her for sale in
the market." So he took her and leading her to the middlemost of
the bazar disappeared for a while and presently he returned with
a stool of ebony, inlaid with ivory, and setting it upon the
ground, seated her thereon. Then he raised her veil and
discovered a face as it were a Median targe[FN#450] or a cluster
of pearls:[FN#451] and indeed she was like the full moon, when it
filleth on its fourteenth night, accomplished in brilliant
beauty. As saith the poet,

"Vied the full moon for folly with her face, * But was
eclipsed[FN#452] and split for rage full sore;
And if the spiring Bán with her contend * Perish her hands who
load of fuel bore!"[FN#453]

And how well saith another,

"Say to the fair in the wroughten veil * How hast made that
monk-like worshipper ail?
Light of veil and light of face under it * Made the hosts of
darkness to fly from bale;
And, when came my glance to steal look at cheek. * With a
meteor-shaft the Guard made me quail."[FN#454]

Then said the broker to the merchants,[FN#455] "How much do ye
bid for the union-pearl of the diver and prize-quarry of the
fowler?" Quoth one, "She is mine for an hundred dinars." And
another said, "Two hundred," and a third, "Three hundred"; and
they ceased not to bid, one against other, till they made her
price nine hundred and fifty dinars, and there the biddings
stopped awaiting acceptance and consent.[FN#456]--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
merchants bid one against other till they made the price of the
girl nine hundred and fifty dinars. Then the broker went up to
her Persian master and said to him, "The biddings for this thy
slavegirl have reached nine hundred and fifty dinars: so say me,
wilt thou sell her at that price and take the money?" Asked the
Persian, "Doth she consent to this? I desire to fall in with her
wishes, for I sickened on my journey hither and this handmaid
tended me with all possible tenderness, wherefore I sware not to
sell her but to him whom she should like and approve, and I have
put her sale in her own hand. So do thou consult her and if she
say, 'I consent,' sell her to whom thou wilt: but an she say,
'No,' sell her not." So the broker went up to her and asked her,
"O Princess of fair ones, know that thy master putteth thy sale
in thine own hands, and thy price hath reached nine hundred and
fifty dinars; dost thou give me leave to sell thee?" She
answered, "Show me him who is minded to buy me before clinching
the bargain." So he brought her up to one of the merchants a man
stricken with years and decrepit; and she looked at him a long
while, then turned to the broker and said to him, "O broker, art
thou Jinn-mad or afflicted in thy wit?" Replied he, "Why dost
thou ask me this, O Princess of fair ones?"; and said she, "Is it
permitted thee of Allah to sell the like of me to yonder decrepit
old man, who saith of his wife's case these couplets,

'Quoth she to me,--and sore enraged for wounded pride was she, *
For she in sooth had bidden me to that which might not be,--
'An if thou swive me not forthright, as one should swive his
wife, * Thou be made a cuckold straight, reproach it not to
me.
Meseems thy yard is made of wax, for very flaccidness; * For when
I rub it with my hand, it softens instantly.'[FN#457]

And said he likewise of his yard,

'I have a yard that sleeps in base and shameful way * When grants
my lover boon for which I sue and pray:
But when I wake o' mornings[FN#458] all alone in bed, * 'Tis fain
o' foin and fence and fierce for futter-play.'

And again quoth he thereof of his yard,

'I have a froward yard of temper ill * Dishonoring him who shows
it most regard:
It stands when sleep I, when I stand it sleeps * Heaven pity not
who pitieth that yard!'"

When the old merchant heard this ill flouting from the damsel, he
was wroth with wrath exceeding beyond which was no proceeding and
said to the broker, "O most ill-omened of brokers, thou hast not
brought into the market this ill-conditioned wench but to gibe me
and make mock of me before the merchants." Then the broker took
her aside and said to her, "O my lady, be not wanting in
self-respect. The Shaykh at whom thou didst mock is the Syndic of
the bazar and Inspector[FN#459] thereof and a committee-man of
the council of the merchants." But she laughed and improvised
these two couplets,

"It behoveth folk who rule in our time, * And 'tis one of the
duties of magistrateship,
To hand up the Wali above his door * And beat with a whip the
Mohtasib!"

Adding, "By Allah, O my lord, I will not be sold to yonder old
man; so sell me to other than him, for haply he will be abashed
at me and vend me again and I shall become a mere servant[FN#460]
and it beseemeth not that I sully myself with menial service; and
indeed thou knowest that the matter of my sale is committed to
myself." He replied, "I hear and I obey," and carried her to a
man which was one of the chief merchants. And when standing hard
by him the broker asked, "How sayst thou, O my lady? Shall I sell
thee to my lord Sharíf al-Dín here for nine hundred and fifty
gold pieces?" She looked at him and, seeing him to be an old man
with a dyed beard, said to the broker, "Art thou silly, that thou
wouldst sell me to this worn out Father Antic? Am I cotton refuse
or threadbare rags that thou marchest me about from greybeard to
greybeard, each like a wall ready to fall or an Ifrit smitten
down of a fire-ball? As for the first, the poet had him in mind
when he said,[FN#461]

'I sought of a fair maid to kiss her lips of coral red, But, 'No,
by Him who fashioned things from nothingness!' she said.
Unto the white of hoary hairs I never had a mind, And shall my
mouth be stuffed, forsooth, with cotton, ere I'm dead?'

And how goodly is the saying of the poet,

'The wise have said that white of hair is light that shines and
robes * The face of man with majesty and light that awes the
sight;
Yet until hoary seal shall stamp my parting-place of hair * I
hope and pray that same may be black as the blackest night.
Albe Time-whitened beard of man be like the book he bears[FN#462]
* When to his Lord he must return, I'd rather 'twere not
white,'

And yet goodlier is the saying of another,

'A guest hath stolen on my head and honour may he lack! * The
sword a milder deed hath done that dared these locks to
hack.
Avaunt, O Whiteness,[FN#463] wherein naught of brightness
gladdens sight * Thou 'rt blacker in the eyes of me than
very blackest black!'

As for the other, he is a model of wantonness and scurrilousness
and a blackener of the face of hoariness; his dye acteth the
foulest of lies: and the tongue of his case reciteth these
lines,[FN#464]


'Quoth she to me, 'I see thou dy'st thy hoariness;' and I, 'I do
but hide it from thy sight, O thou mine ear and eye!'
She laughed out mockingly and said, 'A wonder 'tis indeed! Thou
so aboundest in deceit that even thy hair's a lie.'

And how excellent is the saying of the poet,

'O thou who dyest hoariness with black, * That youth wi' thee
abide, at least in show;
Look ye, my lot was dyèd black whilome * And (take my word!) none
other hue 'twill grow.'"

When the old man with dyed beard heard such words from the
slave-girl, he raged with exceeding rage in fury's last stage and
said to the broker, "O most ill-omened of brokers, this day thou
hast brought to our market naught save this gibing baggage to
flout at all who are therein, one after other, and fleer at them
with flyting verse and idle jest?" And he came down from his shop
and smote on the face the broker, who took her an angered and
carried her away, saying to her, "By Allah, never in my life saw
I a more shameless wench than thyself![FN#465] Thou hast cut off
my daily bread and thine own this day and all the merchants will
bear me a grudge on thine account." Then they saw on the way a
merchant called Shihab al-Din who bid ten dinars more for her,
and the broker asked her leave to sell her to him. Quoth she,
"Trot him out that I may see him and question him of a certain
thing, which if he have in his house, I will be sold to him; and
if not, then not." So the broker left her standing there and
going up to Shihab al-Din, said to him, "O my lord, know that
yonder damsel tells me she hath a mind to ask thee somewhat,
which an thou have, she will be sold to thee. Now thou hast heard
what she said to thy fellows, the merchants,"--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-second Night,

She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
broker said to the merchant, "Thou hast heard what this handmaid
said to thy fellows, the traders, and by Allah, I fear to bring
her to thee, lest she do with thee like as she did with thy
neighbours and so I fall into disgrace with thee: but, an thou
bid me bring her to thee, I will bring her." Quoth the merchant,
"Hither with her to me." "Hearing and obeying," answered the
broker and fetched for the purchaser the damsel, who looked at
him and said, "O my lord, Shihab al-Din, hast thou in thy house
round cushions stuffed with ermine strips?" Replied Shihab
al-Din, "Yes, O Princess of fair ones, I have at home half a
score such cushions; but I conjure thee by Allah, tell me, what
will thou do with them?" Quoth she, "I will bear with thee till
thou be asleep, when I will lay them on thy mouth and nose and
press them down till thou die." Then she turned to the broker and
said to him, "O thou refuse of brokers, meseemeth thou art mad,
in that thou showest me this hour past, first to a pair of
greybeards, in each of whom are two faults, and then thou
proferrest me to my lord Shihab al-Din wherein be three defects;
and thirdly, he is dwarfish, secondly, he hath a nose which is
big, and thirdly, he hath a beard which is long. Of him quoth one
of the poets,

'We never heard of wight nor yet espied * Who amid men three
gifts hath unified:
To wit, a beard one cubit long, a snout * Span-long and figure
tall a finger wide:'

And quoth another poet,

'From the plain of his face springs a minaret * Like a bezel of
ring on his finger set:
Did creation enter that vasty nose * No created thing would
elsewhere be met.'"

When Shihab al-Din heard this, he came down from his shop and
seized the broker by the collar, saying, "O scurviest of brokers,
what aileth thee to bring us a damsel to flout and make mock of
us, one after other, with her verses and talk that a curse is?"
So the broker took her and carried her away from before him and
fared, saying, "By Allah, all my life long, since I have plied
this profession never set I eyes on the like of thee for
unmannerliness nor aught more curst to me than thy star, for thou
hast cut off my livelihood this day and I have gained no profit
by thee save cuffs on the neck-nape and catching by the collar!"
Then he brought her to the shop of another merchant, owner of
negro slaves and white servants, and stationing her before him,
said to her, "Wilt thou be sold to this my lord 'Alá al-Dín?" She
looked at him and seeing him hump-backed, said, "This is a Gobbo,
and quoth the poet of him,

'Drawn in thy shoulders are and spine thrust out, * As seeking
star which Satan gave the lout;[FN#466]
Or as he tasted had first smack of scourge * And looked in marvel
for a second bout.'

And saith another on the same theme,

'As one of you who mounted mule, * A sight for me to ridicule:
Is 't not a farce? Who feels surprise * An start and bolt with
him the mule?'

And another on a similar subject,

'Oft hunchback addeth to his bunchy back * Faults which gar folk
upon his front look black:
Like branch distort and dried by length of days * With citrons
hanging from it loose and slack.'"

With this the broker hurried up to her and, carrying her to
another merchant, said to her, "Wilt thou be sold to this one?"
She looked at him and said, "In very sooth this man is
blue-eyed;[FN#467] how wilt thou sell me to him?" Quoth one of
the poets,

'His eyelids sore and bleared * Weakness of frame denote:
Arise, ye folk and see * Within his eyes the mote!'"

Then the broker carried her to another and she looked at him and
seeing that he had a long beard, said to the broker, "Fie upon
thee! This is a ram, whose tail hath sprouted from his gullet.
Wilt thou sell me to him, O unluckiest of brokers? Hast thou not
heard say: 'All long of beard are little of wits? Indeed, after
the measure of the length of the beard is the lack of sense; and
this is a well-known thing among men of understanding.' As saith
one of the poets,

'Ne'er was a man with beard grown overlong, * Tho' be he therefor
reverenced and fear'd,
But who the shortness noted in his wits * Added to longness noted
in his beard.'

And quoth another,[FN#468]

'I have a friend with a beard which God hath made to grow to a
useless length,
It is like unto one of the nights of winter long and dark and
cold.'"

With this the broker took her and turned away with her, and she
asked, "Whither goest thou with me?" He answered, "Back to thy
master the Persian; it sufficeth me what hath befallen me because
of thee this day; for thou hast been the means of spoiling both
my trade and his by thine ill manners." Then she looked about the
market right and left, front and rear till, by the decree of the
Decreer her eyes fell on Ali Nur al-Din the Cairene. So she gazed
at him and saw him[FN#469] to be a comely youth of straight slim
form and smooth of face, fourteen years old, rare in beauty and
loveliness and elegance and amorous grace like the full moon on
the fourteenth night with forehead flower-white, and cheeks rosy
red, neck like alabaster and teeth than jewels and dews of lips
sweeter than sugar, even as saith of him one of his describers,

"Came to match him in beauty and loveliness rare * Full moons and
gazelles but quoth I, 'Soft fare!
Fare softly, gazelles, nor yourselves compare * With him and, O
Moons, all your pains forbear!'"

And how well saith another bard,

"Slim-waisted loveling, from his hair and brow * Men wake a-morn
in night and light renewed.
Blame not the mole that dwelleth on his cheek * For Nu'uman's
bloom aye shows spot negro-hued."

When the slave-girl beheld Nur al-Din he interposed between her
and her wits; she fell in love to him with a great and sudden
fall and her heart was taken with affection for him;--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-third Night,

She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
slave-girl beheld Nur al-Din, her heart was taken with affection
for him; so she turned to the broker and said to him, "Will not
yonder young merchant, who is sitting among the traders in the
gown of striped broadcloth, bid somewhat more for me?" The broker
replied, "O lady of fair ones, yonder young man is a stranger
from Cairo, where his father is chief of the trader-guild and
surpasseth all the merchants and notables of the place. He is but
lately come to this our city and lodgeth with one of his father's
friends; but he hath made no bid for thee nor more nor less."
When the girl heard the broker's words, she drew from her finger
a costly signet-ring of ruby and said to the man, "Carry me to
yonder youth, and if he buy me, this ring shall be thine, in
requital of thy travail with me this day." The broker rejoiced at
this and brought her up to Nur al-Din, and she considered him
straitly and found him like the full moon, perfect in loveliness
and a model of fine stature and symmetric grace, even as saith of
him one of his describers.

"Waters of beauty o'er his cheeks flow bright, * And rain his
glances shafts that sorely smite:
Choked are his lovers an he deal disdain's * Bitterest draught
denaying love-delight.
His forehead and his stature and my love * Are perfect perfected
perfection-dight;
His raiment folds enfold a lovely neck * As crescent moon in
collar buttoned tight:
His eyne and twinnèd moles and tears of me * Are night that
nighteth to the nightliest night.
His eyebrows and his features and my frame[FN#470] * Crescents on
crescents are as crescents slight:
His pupils pass the wine-cup to his friends * Which, albe sweet,
tastes bitter to my sprite;
And to my thirsty throat pure drink he dealt * From smiling lips
what day we were unite:
Then is my blood to him, my death to him * His right and rightful
and most righteous right."

The girl gazed at Nur al-Din and said, "O my lord, Allah upon
thee, am I not beautiful?"; and he replied, "O Princess of fair
ones, is there in the world a comelier than thou?" She rejoined,
"Then why seest thou all the other merchants bid high for me and
art silent nor sayest a word neither addest one dinar to my
price? 'Twould seem I please thee not, O my lord!" Quoth he, "O
my lady, were I in my own land, I had bought thee with all that
my hand possesseth of monies;" and quoth she, "O my lord, I said
not, 'Buy me against thy will,' yet, didst thou but add somewhat
to my price, it would hearten my heart, though thou buy me not,
so the merchants may say, 'Were not this girl handsome, yonder
merchant of Cairo had not bidden for her, for the Cairenes are
connoisseurs in slave-girls.'" These words abashed Nur al-Din and
he blushed and said to the broker, "How high are the biddings for
her?" He replied, "Her price hath reached nine hundred and sixty
dinars,[FN#471] besides brokerage, as for the Sultan's dues, they
fall on the seller." Quoth Nur al-Din, "Let me have her for a
thousand dinars, brokerage and price." And the damsel hastening
to the fore and leaving the broker, said "I sell myself to this
handsome young man for a thousand dinars." But Nur al-Din held
his peace. Quoth one, "We sell to him;" and another, "He
deserveth her;" and a third, "Accursed, son of accursed, is he
who biddeth and doth not buy!"; and a fourth, "By Allah, they
befit each other!" Then, before Nur al-Din could think, the
broker fetched Kazis and witnesses, who wrote out a contract of
sale and purchase; and the broker handed the paper to Nur al-Din,
saying, "Take thy slave-girl and Allah bless thee in her for she
beseemeth none but thee and none but thou beseemeth her." And he
recited these two couplets,

"Boom Fortune sought him in humblest way[FN#472] * And came to
him draggle-tailed, all a-stir:
And none is fittest for him but she * And none is fittest but he
for her."

Hereat Nur al-Din was abashed before the merchants; so he arose
without stay or delay and weighed out the thousand dinars which
he had left as a deposit with his father's friend the druggist,
and taking the girl, carried her to the house wherein the Shaykh
had lodged him. When she entered and saw nothing but ragged
patched carpets and worn out rugs, she said to him, "O my lord,
have I no value to thee and am I not worthy that thou shouldst
bear me to thine own house and home wherein are thy goods, that
thou bringest me into thy servant's lodging? Why dost thou not
carry me to thy father's dwelling?" He replied, "By Allah, O
Princess of fair ones, this is my house wherein I dwell; but it
belongeth to an old man, a druggist of this city, who hath set it
apart for me and lodged me therein. I told thee that I was a
stranger and that I am of the sons of Cairo city." She rejoined,
"O my lord, the least of houses sufficeth till thy return to thy
native place; but, Allah upon thee, O my lord, go now and fetch
us somewhat of roast meat and wine and dried fruit and dessert."
Quoth Nur al-Din, "By Allah, O Princess of fair ones, I had no
money with me but the thousand dinars I paid down to thy price
nor possess I any other good. The few dirhams I owned were spent
by me yesterday." Quoth she, "Hast thou no friend in the town, of
whom thou mayst borrow fifty dirhams and bring them to me, that I
may tell thee what thou shalt do therewith?" And he said, "I have
no intimate but the druggist." Then he betook himself forthright
to the druggist and said to him, "Peace be with thee, O uncle!"
He returned his salam and said to him, "O my son, what hast thou
bought for a thousand dinars this day?" Nur al-Din replied, "I
have bought a slave-girl;" and the oldster rejoined, "O my son,
art thou mad that thou givest a thousand dinars for one
slave-girl? Would I knew what kind of slave-girl she is?" Said
Nur al-Din, "She is a damsel of the children of the Franks;"--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-fourth Night,

She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur
al-Din said to the ancient druggist, "The damsel is of the
children of the Franks;" and the Shaykh said, "O my son, the best
of the girls of the Franks are to be had in this our town for an
hundred dinars, and by Allah, O my son, they have cheated thee in
the matter of this damsel! However, an thou have taken a fancy to
her, lie with her this night and do thy will of her and to-morrow
morning go down with her to the market and sell her, though thou
lose by her two hundred dinars, and reckon that thou hast lost
them by shipwreck or hast been robbed of them on the road." Nur
al-Din replied, "Right is thy rede, O uncle, but thou knowest
that I had but the thousand dinars wherewith I purchased the
damsel, and now I have not a single dirham left to spend; so I
desire of thy favour and bounty that thou lend me fifty dirhams,
to provide me withal, till to-morrow, when I will sell her and
repay thee out of her price." Said the old man, "Willingly, O my
son," and counted out to him the fifty dirhams. Then he said to
him, "O my son, thou art but young in years and the damsel is
fair, so belike thy heart will be taken with her and it will be
grievous to thee to vend her. Now thou hast nothing to live on
and these fifty dirhams will readily be spent and thou wilt come
to me and I shall lend thee once and twice and thrice, and so on
up to ten times; but, an thou come to me after this, I will not
return thy salam[FN#473] and our friendship with thy father will
end ill." Nur al-Din took the fifty dirhams and returned with
them to the damsel, who said to him, "O my lord, wend thee at
once to the market and fetch me twenty dirhams' worth of stained
silk of five colours and with the other thirty buy meat and bread
and fruit and wine and flowers." So he went to the market and
purchasing for her all she sought, brought it to her, whereupon
she rose and tucking up her sleeves, cooked food after the most
skilful fashion, and set it before him. He ate and she ate with
him, till they had enough, after which she set on the wine, and
she drank and he drank, and she ceased not to ply him with drink
and entertain him with discourse, till he became drunken and fell
asleep. Thereupon she arose without stay or delay and taking out
of her bundle a budget of Táifí leather,[FN#474] opened it and
drew forth a pair of knitting needles, wherewith she fell to work
and stinted not till she had made a beautiful zone, which she
folded up in a wrapper after cleaning it and ironing it, and laid
it under her pillow. Then she doffed her dress till she was
mother-naked and lying down beside Nur al-Din shampoo'd him till
he awoke from his heavy sleep. He found by his side a maiden like
virgin silver, softer than silk and delicater than a tail of
fatted sheep, than standard more conspicuous and goodlier than
the red camel,[FN#475] in height five feet tall with breasts firm
and full, brows like bended bows, eyes like gazelles' eyes and
cheeks like blood-red anemones, a slender waist with dimples
laced and a navel holding an ounce of the unguent benzoin, thighs
like bolsters stuffed with ostrich-down, and between them what
the tongue fails to set forth and at mention whereof the tears
jet forth. Brief it was as it were she to whom the poet alluded
in these two couplets,

"From her hair is Night, from her forehead Noon * From her
side-face Rose; from her lip wine boon:
From her Union Heaven, her Severance Hell: * Pearls from her
teeth; from her front full Moon."

And how excellent is the saying of another bard,[FN#476]

"A Moon she rises, Willow-wand she waves * Breathes ambergris and
gazeth a gazelle.
Meseems that sorrow wooes my heart and wins * And when she wends
makes haste therein to dwell.
Her face is fairer than the Stars of Wealth[FN#477] * And sheeny
brows the crescent Moon excel."

And quoth a third also,

"They shine fullest Moons, unveil Crescent-bright; *
Sway tenderest Branches and turn wild kine;
'Mid which is a Dark-eyed for love of whose charms *
The Sailors[FN#478] 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.[FN#479] 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[FN#480]
and Damiettan moanings and Sa'ídí[FN#481] hotness and Alexandrian
languishment[FN#482] 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.

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,[FN#483]

"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,
Than 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:[FN#484] 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?"[FN#485] 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,[FN#486] 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.

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 the 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 he 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 ather
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 witnessed 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,[FN#487] 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,[FN#488]

'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,[FN#489] 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.

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:[FN#490]
pay down the money." Quoth Nur al-Din, "I will not sell it, I
swear by Allah!"[FN#491] 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[FN#492] 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; 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 special
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
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.

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,[FN#493]

"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,[FN#494]

"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;[FN#495]
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."

At this juncture, behold, the Frank came in to them and went up
to Miriam, to kiss her hands; but she dealt him a buffet with her
palm on the cheek, saying, "Avaunt, O accursed! Thou hast
followed after me without surcease, till thou hast cozened my
lord into selling me! But O accursed, all shall yet be well,
Inshallah!" The Frank laughed at her speech and wondered at her
deed and excused himself to her, saying, "O my lady Mirian, what
is my offence? Thy lord Nur al-Din here sold thee of his full
consent and of his own free will. Had he loved thee, by the right
of the Messiah, he had not transgressed against thee! And had he
not fulfilled his desire of thee, he had not sold thee." Quoth
one of the poets,

'Whom I irk let him fly fro' me fast and faster * If I name his
name I am no directer.
Nor the wide wide world is to me so narrow * That I act expecter
to this rejecter.'"[FN#496]

Now this handmaid was the daughter of the King of France, the
which is a wide an spacious city,[FN#497] abounding in
manufactures and rarities and trees and flowers and other
growths, and resembleth the city of Constantinople; and for her
going forth of her father's city there was a wondrous cause and
thereby hangeth a marvellous tale which we will set out in due
order, to divert and delight the hearer.[FN#498]--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the cause
of Miriam the Girdle-girl leaving her father and mother was a
wondrous and thereby hangeth a marvellous tale. She was reared
with her father and mother in honour and indulgence and learnt
rhetoric and penmanship and arithmetic and cavalarice and all
manner crafts, such as broidery and sewing and weaving and
girdle-making and silk-cord making and damascening gold on silver
and silver on gold, brief all the arts both of men and women,
till she became the union-pearl of her time and the unique gem of
her age and day. Moreover, Allah (to whom belong Might and
Majesty!) had endowed her with such beauty and loveliness and
elegance and perfection of grace that she excelled therein all
the folk of her time, and the Kings of the isles sought her in
marriage of her sire, but he refused to give her to wife to any
of her suitors, for that he loved her with passing love and could
not bear to be parted from her a single hour. Moreover, he had no
other daughter than herself, albeit he had many sons, but she was
dearer to him than all of them. It fortuned one year that she
fell sick of an exceeding sickness and came nigh upon death,
werefore she made a vow that, if she recovered from her malady,
she would make the pilgrimage to a certain monastery, situate in
such an island, which was high in repute among the Franks, who
used to make vows to it and look for a blessing therefrom. When
Miriam recovered from her sickness, she wished to accomplish her
vow anent the monastery and her sire despatched her to the
convent in a little ship, with sundry daughters of the
city-notables to wait upon her and patrician Knights to protect
them all. As they drew near the island, there came out upon them
a ship of the ships of the Moslems, champions of The Faith,
warring in Allah's way, who boarded the vessel and making prize
of all therein, knights and maidens, gifts and monies, sold their
booty in the city of Kayrawán.[FN#499] Miriam herself fell into
the hands of a Persian merchant, who was born impotent[FN#500]
and for whom no woman had ever discovered her nakedness; so he
set her to serve him. Presently, he fell ill and sickened well
nigh unto death, and the sickness abode with him two months,
during which she tended him after the goodliest fashion, till
Allah made him whole of his malady, when he recalled her
tenderness and loving-kindness to him and the persistent zeal
with which she had nurst him and being minded to requite her the
good offices she had done him, said to her, "Ask a boon of me?"
She said, "O my lord, I ask of thee that thou sell me not but to
the man of my choice." He answered, "So be it. I guarantee thee.
By Allah, O Miriam, I will not sell thee but to him of whom thou
shalt approve, and I put thy sale in thine own hand." And she
rejoiced herein with joy exceeding. Now the Persian had expounded
to her Al-Islam and she became a Moslemah and learnt of him the
rules of worship. Furthermore during that period the Perisan had
taught her the tenets of The Faith and the observances incumbent
upon her: he had made her learn the Koran by heart and master
somewhat of the theological sciences and the traditions of the
Prophet; after which, he brought her to Alexandria-city and sold
her to Nur al-Din, as we have before set out. Meanwhile, when her
father, the King of France, heard what had befallen his daughter
and her company, he saw Doomsday break and sent after her ships
full of knights and champions, horsemen and footsmen; but they
fell not in any trace of her whom they sought in the
Islands[FN#501] of the Moslems; so all returned to him, crying
out and saying, "Well-away!" and "Ruin!" and "Well worth the
day!" The King grieved for her with exceeding grief and sent
after her that one-eyed lameter, blind of the left,[FN#502] for
that he was his chief Wazir, a stubborn tyrant and a froward
devil,[FN#503] full of craft and guile, bidding him make search
for her in all the lands of the Moslems and buy her, though with
a ship-load of gold. So the accursed sought her, in all the
islands of the Arabs and all the cities of the Moslems, but found
no sign of her till he came to Alexandria-city where he made
quest for her and presently discovered that she was with Nur
al-Din Ali the Cairene, being directed to the trace of her by the
kerchief aforesaid, for that none could have wrought it in such
goodly guise but she. Then he bribed the merchants to help him in
getting her from Nur al-Din and beguiled her lord into selling
her, as hath been already related. When he had her in his
possession, she ceased not to weep and wail: so he said to her,
"O my lady Miriam, put away from thee this mourning and grieving
and return with me to the city of thy sire, the seat of thy
kingship and the place of thy power and thy home, so thou mayst
be among thy servants and attendants and be quit of this
abasement and this strangerhood. Enough hath betided me of
travail, of travel and of disbursing monies on thine account, for
thy father bade me buy thee back, though with a shipload of gold;
and now I have spent nigh a year and a half in seeking thee." And
he fell to kissing her hands and feet and humbling himself to
her; but the more he kissed and grovelled she only redoubled in
wrath against him, and said to him, "O accursed, may Almighty
Allah not vouchsafe thee to win thy wish!" Presently his pages
brought her a shemule with gold-embroidered housings and mounting
her thereon, raised over her head a silken canopy, with staves of
gold and silver, and the Franks walked round about her, till they
brought her forth the city by the sea-gate,[FN#504] where they
took boat with her and rowing out to a great ship in harbor
embarked therein. Then the monocular Wazir cried out to the
sailors, saying, "Up with the mast!" So they set it up forthright
and spreading the newly bent sails and the colours manned the
sweeps and put out to sea. Meanwhile Miriam continued to gaze
upon Alexandria, till it disappeared from her eyes, when she fell
a-weeping in her privacy with sore weeping.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Eightieth Night,

She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
the Wazir of the Frankish King put out to sea in the ship bearing
Miriam the Girdle-girl, she gazed Alexandria-wards till the city
was hidden from her sight when she wailed and wept copious tears
and recited these couplets,

"O dwelling of my friends say is there no return * Uswards? But
what ken I of matters Allah made?
Still fare the ships of Severance, sailing hastily * And in my
wounded eyelids tear have ta'en their stead,
For parting from a friend who was my wish and will * Healed every
ill and every pain and pang allay'd.
Be thou, O Allah, substitute of me for him * Such charge some day
the care of Thee shall not evade."

Then she could not refrain from weeping and wailing. So the
patrician[FN#505] knights came up to her and would have comforted
her, but she heeded not their consoling words, being distracted
by the claims of passion and love-longing. And she shed tears and
moaned and complained and recited these couplets,

"The tongue of Love within my vitals speaketh * Saying, 'This
lover boon of Love aye seeketh!'
And burn my liver hottest coals of passion * And parting on my
heart sore suffering wreaketh.
How shall I face this fiery love concealing * When fro' my
wounded lids the tear aye leaketh?

In this plight Miriam abode during all the voyage; no peace was
left her at all nor would patience come at her call. Such was her
case in company with the Wazir, the monocular, the lameter; but
as regards Nur al-Din the Cairene, when the ship had sailed with
Miriam, the world was straitened upon him and he had neither
peace nor patience. He returned to the lodging where they twain
had dwelt, and its aspect was black and gloomy in his sight. Then
he saw the métier wherewith she had been wont to make the zones
and her dress that had been upon her beauteous body; so he
pressed them to his breast, whilst the tears gushed from his eyes
and he recited these couplets,

"Say me, will Union after parting e'er return to be * After
long-lasting torments, after hopeless misery?
Alas! Alas! what wont to be shall never more return * But grant
me still return of dearest her these eyne may see.
I wonder me will Allah deign our parted lives unite * And will my
dear one's plighted troth preserve with constancy!
Naught am I save the prey of death since parting parted us; * And
will my friends consent that I am a wierd so deadly dree?
Alas my sorrow! Sorrowing the lover scant avails; * Indeed I melt
away in grief and passion's ecstasy:
Past is the time of my delight when were we two conjoined: *
Would Heaven I wot if Destiny mine esperance will degree!
Redouble then, O Heart, thy pains and, O mine eyes, o'erflow *
With tears till not a tear remain within these eyne of me?
Again alas for loved ones lost and loss of patience eke! * For
helpers fail me and my griefs are grown beyond decree.
The Lord of Threefold Worlds I pray He deign to me return * My
lover and we meet as wont in joy and jubilee."

Then Nur al-Din wept with weeping galore than which naught could
be more; and peering into ever corner of the room, recited these
two couplets,

"I view their traces and with pain I pine * And by their sometime
home I weep and yearn;
And Him I pray who parting deigned decree * Some day He deign
vouchsafe me their return!"

Then Nur al-Din sprang to his feet and locking the door of the
house, fared forth running at speed, to the sea shore whence he
fixed his eyes on the place of the ship which had carried off his
Miriam whilst sighs burst from his breast and tears from his lids
as he recited these couplets,

"Peace be with you, sans you naught compensateth me * The near,
the far, two cases only here I see:
I yearn for you at every hour and tide as yearns * For
water-place wayfarer plodding wearily.
With you abide my hearing, heart and eyen-sight * And (sweeter
than the honeycomb) your memory.
Then, O my Grief when fared afar your retinue * And bore that
ship away my sole expectancy."

And Nur al-Din wept and wailed, bemoaned himself and complained,
crying out and saying, "O Miriam! O Miriam! Was it but a vision
of thee I saw in sleep or in the allusions of dreams?" And by
reason of that which grew on him of regrets, he recited these
couplets,[FN#506]

"Mazed with thy love no more I can feign patience,
This