The Thousand and One Nights Volume IV Part 7

I stand before your sometime stead, bewailing your abodes, With quivering lids, from which the tears rain down, like summer dew.

Weeping, I question of the house and ruins, "Where is he Who was the source of benefits and bounties ever new?"

[They answer] "Go thy ways, for those thou lov'st from the abode Departed are and neath the dust are buried; so adieu!"

May G.o.d not stint us of the sight [in dreams] of all their charms Nor be their n.o.ble memories aye absent from men's view!

As I was thus bewailing the folk of the house, there came a black slave thereout and said to me, "Hold thy peace, O old man! May thy mother be bereft of thee! What ails thee to bemoan the house thus?" Quoth I, "I knew it of yore, when it belonged to a good friend of mine." "What was his name?" asked the slave. And I answered, "Jubeir ben Umeir the Sheibani." "And what hath befallen him?" rejoined he. "Praised be G.o.d, he is yet in the enjoyment of wealth and rank and prosperity, except that G.o.d hath stricken him with love of a damsel called the lady Budour; and he is overcome with love of her, that, for the violence of his pa.s.sion and torment, he is like a great rock overthrown. If he hunger, he saith not, 'Feed me;' nor, if he thirst, doth he say, 'Give me to drink.'" Quoth I, "Ask leave me to go in to him." "O my lord," said the slave, "Wilt thou go in to him who understands or to him who understands not?" "I must needs see him, whatever be his case," answered I.

Se he went in and presently returned with permission for me to enter, whereupon I went in to Jubeir and found him like a rock overthrown, understanding neither sign nor speech. I spoke to him, but he answered me not; and one of his servants said to me, "O my lord, if thou know aught of verse, repeat it, and raise thy voice; and he will be aroused by this and speak with thee." So I recited the following verses:

Budour's love hast thou forgotten or art deaf still to her sighs? Wak'st anights, or do thine eyelids close upon thy sleeping eyes?

If thy tears flow fast and freely, night and day long, torrent- wise, Know thou, then, that thou shalt sojourn evermore in Paradise.[FN#33]

When he heard this, he opened his eyes and said, "Welcome, O Ibn Mensour! Verily, the jest is become earnest." "O my lord,"

said I, "is there aught thou wouldst have me do for thee?"

"Yes," answered he; "I would fain write her a letter and send it to her by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me a thousand dinars; and if not, two hundred for thy pains." "Do what seemeth good to thee," said I. So he called to one of his slave-girls for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

By Allah, O my lady, have ruth on me, I pray! For all my wit by pa.s.sion is ravished quite away.

Yea, love for thee and longing have mastered me and clad With sickness and bequeathed me abjection and dismay.

Aforetime, O my lady, by love I set small store And deemed it light and easy to bear, until to-day; But now that Love hath shown me the billows of its sea, Those I excuse, repenting, who languish neath its sway.

Vouchsafe thy grace to grant me; or, if thou wilt me slay, At least, then, for thy victim forget thou not to pray.

Then he sealed the letter and gave it to me. I took it and repairing to Budour's house, raised the curtain of the door, little by little, as of wont, and looking in, saw ten damsels, high-bosomed maids, like moons, and the lady Budour sitting in their midst, as she were the full moon among stars or the sun, when it is clear of clouds; nor was there on her any trace of pain or care. As I looked and marvelled at her case, she turned and seeing me standing at the gate, said to me, "Welcome and fair welcome to thee, O Ibn Mensour! Come in." So I entered and saluting her, gave her the letter. She read it and laughing, said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, the poet lied not when he said:

The love of thee I will endure with patient constancy, Till such time as a messenger shall come to me from thee.

O Ibn Mensour," added she, "I will write thee an answer that he may give thee what he promised thee." "May G.o.d requite thee with good!" answered I. So she called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

How comes it my vows I fulfilled and thou, thou wast false to thy plight? Thou sawst me do justice and truth, and yet thou thyself didst unright.

'Twas thou that begannest on me with rupture and rigour, I trow; 'Twas thou that play'dst foul, and with thee began the untruth and the slight.

Yea, still I was true to my troth and cherished but thee among men And ceased not thine honour to guard and keep it unsullied and bright, Till tidings of fashions full foul I heard, as reported of thee, And saw with mine eyes what thou didst, to harm me and work me despite.

Shall I then abase my estate, that thine may exalted become? By G.o.d, hadst thou generous been, the like should thy conduct requite!

So now unto solace I'll turn my heart, with forgetting, from thee And washing my hands of thy thought, blot despair for thee out of my spright.

"By Allah, O my lady," said I, "there needs but the reading of this letter, to kill him!" So I tore it in pieces and said to her, "Write him other than this." "I hear and obey," answered she and wrote the following:

Indeed, I am consoled and sleep is pleasant to mine eyes; For I have heard what came of prate of slanderers and spies.

My heart my summons hath obeyed, thee to forget; and eke My lids to stint from wake for thee have seen it good and wise.

He lies who says that severance is bitterness; for me I find its taste none otherwise than sweet; indeed he lies.

I've grown to turn away from those who bring me news of thee And look upon it as a thing at which my gorge doth rise.

Behold, I have forgotten thee with every part of me. Let then the spy and who will else this know and recognise.

"By Allah, O my lady," said I, "when he reads these verses, his soul will depart his body!" "O Ibn Mensour," quoth she, "is pa.s.sion indeed come to such a pa.s.s with him as thou sayst?"

"Had I said more than this," replied I, "it were but the truth: but clemency is of the nature of the n.o.ble." When she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she wrote him a letter, O Commander of the Faithful, there is none in thy court could avail to write the like of it; and therein were these verses:

How long shall this despite continue and this pride? My enviers'

spite on me thou sure hast satisfied.

Mayhap, I did amiss and knew it not; so tell Me what thou heardst of me, that did our loves divide.

Even as I welcome sleep unto mine eyes and lids, So would I welcome thee, beloved, to my side.

I've quaffed the cup of love for thee, unmixed and pure; So, if thou see me drunk, reproach me not nor chide.

Then she sealed it and gave it to me; and I said, "O my lady, this thy letter will heal the sick and ease the thirsting soul."

Then I took it and was going away, when she called me back and said to me, "Tell me that I will be his guest this night." At this I rejoiced greatly and carried the letter to Jubeir, whom I found with his eyes fixed on the door, expecting the reply. I gave him the letter and he opened and read it, then gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, did she indeed write this letter with her hand and touch it with her fingers?" "O my lord," answered I, "do folk write with their feet?" And by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I had not done speaking, when we heard the c.h.i.n.k of her anklets in the vestibule and she entered.

When he saw her, he sprang to his feet, as thou there ailed him nought, and embraced her as the letter Lam embraces Alif,[FN#34]

and the malady, that would not depart, ceased from him. Then he sat down, but she abode standing and I said to her, "O my lady, why dost thou not sit?" Quoth she, "I will not sit, O Ibn Mensour, save on a condition that is between us." "And what is that?" asked I. "None may know lovers' secrets," answered she and putting her mouth to Jubeir's ear, whispered to him; whereupon, "I hear and obey," replied he and rising, said somewhat privily to one of his slaves, who went out and returned, in a little, with a Cadi and two witnesses. Then Jubeir rose and taking a bag containing a hundred thousand dinars, said, "O Cadi, marry me to this young lady and write this sum to her dowry." Quoth the Cadi to her, "Say, 'I consent to this.'" "I consent to this," said she, whereupon he drew up the contract of marriage, and she opened the bag and taking out a handful of gold, gave it to the Cadi and the witnesses and handed the rest to Jubeir.

Then the Cadi and the witnesses withdrew, and I sat with them, in mirth and delight, till the most part of the night was past, when I said in myself, "These are lovers and have been this long while separated. I will go now and sleep in some place afar from them and leave them to be private, one with the other." So I rose, but she laid hold of my skirts, saying, "What thinkest thou to do?"

"So and so," answered I. But she rejoined, "Sit still, when we would be rid of thee, we will send thee away." So I sat with them till near daybreak, when she said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, go to yonder chamber; for we have furnished it for thee, and it is thy sleeping-place." So I went thither and slept till morning, when a page brought me basin and ewer, and I made the ablution and prayed the morning-prayer. Then I sat down and presently, Jubeir and his mistress came out of the bath in the house, wringing their locks.

I wished them good morning and gave them joy of their safety and reunion, saying to Jubeir, "That which began with constraint hath ended in contentment." "Thou sayst well," replied he; "and indeed thou deservest largesse." And he called his treasurer and bade him fetch three thousand dinars. So he brought a purse containing that sum, and Jubeir gave it to me, saying, "Favour us by accepting this." "I will not take it," answered I, "till thou tell me the manner of the transfer of love from her to thee, after so great an aversion." "I hear and obey," said he. "Know that we have a festival, called the festival of the New Year, when all the people use to take boat and go a-pleasuring on the river. So I went out, with my comrades, and saw a boat, wherein were half a score damsels like moons, and amongst them, the lady Budour, with her lute in her hand. She preluded in eleven modes, then returning to the first, sang the following verses:

Fire is not so fierce and so hot as the fires in my heart that glow, And granite itself is less hard than the heart of my lord, I trow.

Indeed, when I think on his make and his fashion, I marvel to see A heart that is harder than rock in a body that's softer than snow.

Quoth I to her, 'Repeat the verses and the air.' But she would not; so I bade the boatmen pelt her with oranges, and they pelted her till we feared her boat would sink. Then she went her way, and this is how the love was transferred from her breast to mine." So I gave them joy of their reunion and taking the purse, with its contents, returned to Baghdad.

When the Khalif heard Ibn Mensour's story, his heart was lightened and the restlessness and oppression from which he suffered forsook him.

THE MAN OF YEMEN AND HIS SIX SLAVE-GIRLS

The Khalif El-Mamoun was sitting one day in his palace, surrounded by his grandees and officers of state, and there were present also before him all his poets and minions, amongst the rest one named Mohammed of Ba.s.sora. Presently, the Khalif turned to the latter and said to him, 'O Mohammed, I wish thee to tell me something that I have never before heard.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Mohammed, 'shall I tell thee a thing that I have heard with my ears of a thing that I have seen with my eyes?' 'Tell me whichever is the rarer,' said El Mamoun.

'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' began Mohammed, 'that there lived once a wealthy man, who was a native of Yemen; but he left his native land and came to this city of Baghdad, whose sojourn so pleased him that he transported hither his family and possessions. Now he had six slave-girls, the first fair, the second dark, the third fat, the fourth thin, the fifth yellow and the sixth black, all fair of face and perfectly accomplished and skilled in the arts of singing and playing upon instruments of music. One day he sent for them all and called for meat and drink; and they ate and drank and made merry. Then he filled the cup and taking it in his hand, said to the blonde, "O new-moon- face, let us hear somewhat pleasing." So she took the lute and tuning it, made music thereon with such melodious trills and modulations that the place danced to the rhythm; after which she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

I have a friend, whose form is mirrored in mine eye, And deep within my breast, his name doth buried lie.

Whenas I call him back to mind, I am all heart, And when on him I gaze, all eyes indeed am I.

"Forswear the love of him," my censor says; and I, "That which is not to be, how shall it be?" reply.

"Go forth from me," quoth I, "and leave me, censor mine: Feign not that eath and light, that's grievous to aby."

At this their master was moved to mirth and drinking off his cup, gave the damsels to drink, after which he said to the brunette, "O light of the brasier[FN#35] and delight of souls, let us hear thy lovely voice, wherewith all that hearken are ravished." So she took the lute and trilled upon it, till the place was moved to mirth; then, taking all hearts with her graceful bendings, she sang the following verses:

As thy face liveth, none but thee I'll love nor cherish e'er, Till death, nor ever to thy love will I be false, I swear.

O full moon, shrouded, as it were a veil, with loveliness, All lovely ones on earth that be beneath thy banners fare.

Thou, that in pleasantness and grace excellest all the fair, May G.o.d, the Lord of heaven and earth, be with thee everywhere!

The man was pleased and drank off his cup; after which he filled again and taking the goblet in his hand, beckoned to the plump girl and bade her sing and play. So she took the lute and striking a grief-dispelling measure, sang as follows:

If but thy consent be a.s.sured, O thou who art all my desire, Be all the folk angered 'gainst me; I set not a whit by their ire.

And if thou but show me thy face, thy brilliant and beautiful face, I reck not if all the kings of the earth from my vision retire.

Thy favour, O thou unto whom all beauty must needs be referred, Of the goods and the sweets of the world is all that I seek and require.

The man was charmed and emptying his cup, gave the girls to drink. Then he beckoned to the slender girl and said to her, "O houri of Paradise, feed thou our ears with sweet sounds." So she took the lute and tuning it, preluded and sang the following verses:

Is it not martyrdom that I for thine estrangement dree, Seeing, indeed, I cannot live, if thou depart from me?