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Language:
Published:
  • 1885
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lover.’ Then she kissed Kemerezzeman again and again between the eyes and repeated the following ode:

Ah me, what ails the censurer that he at thee should flite? How shall I be consoled for thee, and thou a sapling slight? Thou of the black and languorous eye, that casteth far and wide Charms, whose sheer witchery compels to passion’s utmost height,
Whose looks, with Turkish languor fraught, work havoc in the breast, Leaving such wounds as ne’er were made of falchion in the fight,
Thou layst on me a heavy load of passion and desire, On me that am too weak to bear a shift upon me dight. My love for thee, as well thou know’st, my very nature is, And that for others which I feign dissembling but and sleight. An if my heart were like to thine, I’d not refuse; alack! ‘Tis but my body’s like thy waist, worn thin and wasted quite. Out on him for a moon that’s famed for beauty far and near, That for th’ exemplar of all grace men everywhere do cite! The railers say, “Who’s this for love of whom thou art distressed?” And I reply, “An if ye can, describe the lovely wight.”
O learn to yield, hard heart of his, take pattern by his shape! So haply yet he may relent and put away despite. Thou, that my prince in beauty art, a steward[FN#26] hast, whose rule Aggrieves me and a chamberlain[FN#27] that doth me foul upright.
He lies who says, “All loveliness in Joseph was comprised.” How many a Joseph is there not within thy beauty bright! The Jinn do fear me, whenas I confront them face to face; But when I meet with thee, my heart doth tremble for affright. I feign aversion unto thee, for fear of slanderous tongues; The more I feign, the more my love to madness I excite. Black hair and smooth and glistening brows, eyes languorous and soft, As of the maids of Paradise, and slender shape and slight!

When Dehnesh heard this, he shook for delight and was filled with admiration and said, ‘Thou hast indeed done well in praise of him whom thou lovest! Needs must I do my endeavour, in my turn, to celebrate my mistress, to the best of my power, and recite somewhat in her honour.’ Then he went up to the lady Budour and kissing her between the eyes, looked at her and at Maimouneh and recited the following verses, for all he had no skill in poetry:

They chide my passion for my fair in harsh and cruel guise; But, of their ignorance, forsooth, they’re neither just nor wise. Vouchsafe thy favours to the slave of love, for, an he taste Of thine estrangement and disdain, assuredly he dies. Indeed, for very stress of love, I’m drenched with streaming tears, That, like a rivulet of blood, run ever from mine eyes.
No wonder ’tis what I for love endure; the wonder is That any, since the loss of thee, my body recognize. Forbidden be thy sight to me, if I’ve a thought of doubt Or if my heart of passion tire or feign or use disguise!

And also the following:

I feed mine eyes on the places where we met long ago; Far distant now is the valley and I’m forslain for woe. I’m drunk with the wine of passion and the teardrops in mine eyes Dance to the song of the leader of the camels, as we go. I cease not from mine endeavour to win to fortune fair; Yet in Budour, Suada,[FN#28] all fortune is, I know. Three things I reckon, I know not of which to most complain; Give ear whilst I recount them and be you judge, I trow. Firstly, her eyes, the sworders; second, the spearman, her shape, And thirdly, her ringlets that clothe her in armour,[FN#29] row upon row.
Quoth she (and indeed I question, for tidings of her I love, All whom I meet, or townsman or Bedouin, high or low) Quoth she unto me, “My dwelling is in thy heart; look there And thou shalt see me.” I answer, “And where is my heart? Heigho!”

When Maimouneh heard this, she said, ‘Thou hast done well, O Dehnesh! But tell me, which of the two is the handsomer?’ And he answered, ‘My mistress Budour is certainly handsomer than thy beloved.’ ‘Thou liest, O accursed one!’ cried Maimouneh. ‘Nay, my beloved is more beautiful than thine!’ And they ceased not to gainsay each other, till Maimouneh cried out at Dehnesh and would have laid violent hands on him; but he humbled himself to her and softening his speech, said to her, ‘Let us leave talking, for we do but contradict each other, and rather seek one who shall judge fairly between us, whether of the two is fairer, and let us abide by his sentence.’ ‘I agree to this,’ answered she and smote the earth with her foot, whereupon there came up a one-eyed Afrit, hump-backed and scurvy, with eyes slit endlong in his face. On his head were seven horns and four locks of hair falling to his heels; his hands were like pitchforks, his legs like masts and he had claws like a lion and hoofs like those of the wild ass. When he saw Maimouneh, he kissed the earth before her and standing with his hands clasped behind him, said, ‘What is thy will, O king’s daughter?’ ‘O Keshkesh,’ answered she, ‘I would have thee judge between me and this accursed Dehnesh.’ And she made known to him the whole matter, whereupon he looked at the prince and princess and saw them lying asleep, embraced, each with an arm about the other’s neck, alike in beauty and grace and equal in goodliness. The Marid gazed long and fixedly upon them, marvelling at their beauty, and repeated the following verses:

Cleave fast to her thou lov’st and let the envious rail amain, For calumny and envy ne’er to favour love were fain. Lo, the Compassionate hath made no fairer thing to see Than when one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain, Each to the other’s bosom clasped, clad in their own delight, Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks enchain.
If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede thee cast the world away and with that one remain. Lo, when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But on cold iron smite the folk that chide at them in vain. Thou that for loving censures the votaries of love, Canst thou assain a heart diseased or heal a cankered brain? O Lord, O Thou Compassionate, I prithee, ere we die, Though only for a single day, unite us two again!

Then he turned to Maimouneh and Dehnesh and said to them, ‘By Allah, if you will have the truth, they are equal in beauty and grace and perfection, nor is there any difference between them but that of sex. But I have another idea, and it is that we wake each of them in turn, without the other’s knowledge, and whichever is more enamoured of the other shall be held the lesser in beauty and grace.’ ‘This is a good counsel,’ answered Maimouneh, and Dehnesh said, ‘I consent to this.’ Then Dehnesh changed himself to a flea and bit Kemerezzeman on the neck, whereupon the prince awoke with a start and rubbed the place of the bite, because of the smart. Then turning sideways, he found lying by him something, whose breath was more fragrant than musk, and whose body was softer than cream. At this he marvelled greatly and sitting up, looked at this that lay beside him and saw it to be a young lady like the moon, as she were a splendid pearl, or a shining sun, five feet high, with a shape like the letter I, high-bosomed and rosy-checked; even as saith of her the poet:

Four things there are, which ne’er unite, except it be To shed my heart’s best blood and take my soul by storm. And these are night-black locks and brow as bright as day, Cheeks ruddy as the rose and straight and slender form.

And also quoth another:

She shineth forth, a moon, and bends, a willow-wand, And breathes, pure ambergris, and gazes, a gazelle. It seems as if grief loved my heart and when from her Estrangement I endure, possession to it fell.

She was clad in a shift of Venetian silk, without drawers, and wore on her head a kerchief embroidered with gold and jewels; her ears were hung with earrings, that shone like stars, and round her neck was a collar of great pearls, past the competence of any king. When he saw this, his reason was confounded and natural heat began to stir in him; God awoke in him the desire of coition and he said, ‘What God wills, shall be, and what He will not, shall not be!’ So saying, he put out his hand and turning her over, loosed the collar of her shift, laying bare her bosom, with its breasts like globes of ivory; whereat his inclination for her redoubled and he desired her with an exceeding desire. Then he shook her and moved her, essaying to waken her and saying, ‘O my beloved, awake and look on me; I am Kemerezzeman.’ But she awoke not, neither moved her head, for Dehnesh made her sleep heavy. With this, he considered awhile and said to himself, ‘If I guess aright, this is she to whom my father would have married me and I have refused these three years past; but, God willing, as soon as it is day, I will say to him, “Marry me to her that I may enjoy her,” nor will I let half the day pass ere I possess her and take my fill of her beauty and grace.’ Then he bent over Budour, to kiss her, whereat Maimouneh trembled and was confounded and Dehnesh was like to fly for joy. But, as Kemerezzeman was about to kiss her, he was ashamed before God and turned away his head, saying to his heart, ‘Have patience.’ Then he considered awhile and said, ‘I will be patient, lest my father have brought this young lady and made her lie by my side, to try me with her, charging her not to be lightly awakened, whenas I would fain arouse her, and bidding her tell him all that I do to her. Belike, he is hidden somewhere whence he can see all I do with this young lady, himself unseen; and to-morrow he will flout me and say, “How comes it that thou feignest to have no mind to marry and yet didst kiss and clip yonder damsel?” So I will forbear her, lest I be shamed before my father; and it were well that I look not on her nor touch her at this present, except to take from her somewhat to serve as a sign of remembrance and a token between us.’ Then he lifted her hand and took from her little finger a ring worth much money, for that its beazel was of precious jewels and around it were graven the following verses:

Think not that I have forgotten thy sometime promises, Though long thou hast protracted thy cruelty, ywis. Be generous, O my master, vouchsafe me of thy grace, So it to me be given thy lips and cheeks to kiss. Never, by Allah, never will I abandon thee, Though thou transgress thy limits in love and go amiss!

Then he put the ring on his own little finger, and turning his back to her, went to sleep. When Maimouneh saw this, she was glad and said, ‘Saw ye how my beloved Kemerezzeman forbore this young lady? Verily, this was of the perfection of his excellences; for see how he looked on her and noted her beauty and grace, yet clipped her not neither kissed her nor put his hand to her, but turned his back to her and slept.’ ‘It is well,’ answered they; ‘we saw how perfectly he bore himself.’ Then Maimouneh changed herself into a flea and entering Budour’s clothes, crept up her leg and bit her four finger-breadths below the navel; whereupon she opened her eyes and sitting up in bed, saw a youth lying beside her and breathing heavily in his sleep, the loveliest of God’s creatures, with eyes that put to shame the fair maids of Paradise, mouth like Solomon’s seal, whose water was sweeter to the taste and more efficacious than triacle,[FN#30] lips the colour of coral and cheeks like blood-red anemones, even as saith one, describing him:

From Zeyneb[FN#31] and Newar[FN#32] my mind is drawn away By the rose of a cheek, whereo’er a whisker’s myrtles stray. I’m fallen in love with a fawn, a youngling tunic-clad, And joy no more in love of bracelet-wearing may. My mate in banquet-hall and closet’s all unlike To her with whom within my harem’s close I play:
O thou that blames me, because I flee from Hind[FN#33] And Zeyneb, my excuse is clear as break of day. Would’st have me be a slave, the bondsman of a slave, One cloistered and confined behind a wall alway?[FN#34]

When the princess saw him, a transport of passion and longing seized her and she said to herself, ‘Alas my shame! This is a strange youth and I know him not. How comes he lying in one bed with me?’ Then she looked at him again and noting his beauty and grace, said, ‘By Allah, he is a comely youth and my heart is well-nigh torn in sunder with longing for him. But alas, how am I shamed by him! By Allah, had I known it was he who sought my hand of my father, I had not rejected him, but had married him and enjoyed his loveliness!’ Then she gazed in his face and said, ‘O my lord and light of mine eyes, awake from sleep and enjoy my beauty and grace.’ And she moved him with her hand; but Maimouneh let down sleep upon him (as it were a curtain) and pressed on his head with her wings, so that he awoke not. The princess went on to shake him and say, ‘My life on thee, give ear unto me! Awake and look on the narcissus and the tender green and enjoy my body and my secret charms and dally with me and touzle me from now till break of day! I conjure thee by Allah, O my lord, sit up and lean against the pillow and sleep not!’ Still he made her no answer, but breathed heavily in his sleep. ‘Alas! Alas!’ continued she. ‘Thou art proud in thy beauty and grace and lovely looks! But if thou art handsome, so am I; what then is this thou dost? Have they lessoned thee to flout me or has the wretched old man, my father, made thee swear not to speak to me to-night?’ But he opened not his mouth neither awoke, whereat her passion redoubled and God inflamed her heart with love of him. She stole one glance at him that cost her a thousand sighs: her heart fluttered and her entrails yearned and she exclaimed, ‘Speak to me, O my lord! O my friend, my beloved, answer me and tell me thy name, for indeed thou hast ravished my wit!’ Still he abode drowned in sleep and answered her not a word, and she sighed and said, ‘Alas! Alas! why art thou so self-satisfied?’ Then she shook him and turning his hand over, saw her ring on his little finger, whereat she cried out and said, with a sigh of passion, ‘Alack! Alack! By Allah, thou art my beloved and lovest me! Yet meseems thou turnest away from me out of coquetry, for all thou camest to me whilst I was asleep and knew not what thou didst, and tookest my ring. But I will not pull it off thy finger.’ So saying, she opened the bosom of his shirt and kissed him and put her hand to him, seeking somewhat that she might take as a token, but found nothing. Then she put her hand into his breast, and for the smoothness of his body, it slipped down to his navel and thence to his yard, whereupon her heart ached and her entrails quivered and desire was sore upon her, for that women’s lust is fiercer than that of men, and she was confounded. Then she took his ring from his finger and put it on her own and kissed his mouth and hands, nor did she leave any part of him unkissed; after which she took him to her breast and laying one of her hands under his neck and the other under his armpit, fell asleep by his side. Then said Maimouneh to Dehnesh, ‘O accursed one, sawst thou how prudishly and coquettishly my beloved bore himself and what ardour of passion thy mistress showed to him? There can be no doubt that my beloved is handsomer than thine; nevertheless I pardon thee.’ Then she wrote him a patent of manumission and said to Keshkesh, ‘Help Dehnesh to take up his mistress and carry her back to her own place, for the night wanes apace and there is but little left of it.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered Keshkesh. So the two Afrits lifted up the Princess Budour and flying away with her, carried her back to her own place and laid her on her bed, whilst Maimouneh abode alone with Kemerezzeman, gazing upon him as he slept, till the night was all but spent, when she went her way.

At break of day, the prince awoke from sleep and turned right and left, but found not the young lady by him and said in himself, ‘What is this? It would seem as if my father would fain incline me to marriage with the young lady, that was with me, and have now taken her away by stealth, to the intent that my desire for marriage may redouble.’ Then he called out to the eunuch who slept at the door, saying, ‘Out on thee, O accursed one, arise forthright!’ So the eunuch arose, dazed with sleep, and brought him basin and ewer, whereupon Kemerezzeman entered the draught-house and did his need; then, coming out, made his ablutions and prayed the morning-prayer, after which he sat telling his beads. Then he looked up, and seeing the eunuch standing waiting upon him, said to him, ‘Out on thee, O Sewab! Who was it came hither and took away the young lady from beside me, whilst I slept?’ ‘O my lord, what young lady?’ asked the eunuch. ‘She that lay with me last night,’ replied Kemerezzeman. The eunuch was troubled at his words and said to him, ‘By Allah, there has been with thee neither young lady nor other! How should she have come in to thee, when the door was locked and I asleep before it? By Allah, O my lord, neither man nor woman has come in to thee!’ ‘Thou liest, O pestilent slave!’ exclaimed the prince. ‘Dost thou also presume to hoodwink me and wilt thou not tell me what is come of the young lady who lay with me last night and who took her away?’ The eunuch was affrighted at him and answered, ‘By Allah, O my lord, I have seen neither girl nor boy!’ His words only angered Kemerezzeman and he said to him, ‘O accursed one, my father hath taught thee deceit! Come hither.’ So the eunuch came up to him, and the prince seized him by the collar and threw him to the ground. He let fly a crack of wind, and Kemerezzeman, kneeling upon him, kicked him and throttled him, till he fainted away. Then he tied him to the well-rope, and lowering him into the well, plunged him into the water, then drew him up and plunged him in again. Now it was hard winter weather, and Kemerezzeman ceased not to lower the eunuch into the water and pull him up again, whilst he screamed and called for help. Quoth the prince, ‘By Allah, O accursed one, I will not draw thee up out of the well, till thou tell me the story of the young lady and who it was took her away, whilst I slept.’ ‘O my lord,’ answered the eunuch, seeing death staring him in the face, ‘let me go and I will tell thee the truth.’ So Kemerezzeman pulled him up out of the well, all but dead for cold and wet and torture and beating and fear of drowning. His teeth chattered and he shook like the reed in the hurricane and his clothes were drenched and his body befouled and torn by the rough slimy sides of the well. When Kemerezzeman saw him in this sorry plight, he relented towards him; and as soon as the eunuch found himself on dry land, he said to him, ‘O my lord, let me go and put off my clothes and wring them out and spread them in the sun to dry and don others; after which I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee the truth of the matter.’ ‘O wretched slave,’ answered the prince, ‘hadst thou not seen death face to face, thou hadst never confessed; but go now and do thy will, and after return speedily and tell me the truth.’ So the eunuch went out, hardly crediting his escape, and gave not over running and stumbling, in his haste, till he came in to King Shehriman, whom he found sitting talking with his Vizier of Kemerezzeman’s case and saying, ‘I slept not last night, for anxiety concerning my son Kemerezzeman, and indeed I fear lest some harm befall him in that old tower. What good was there in imprisoning him?’ ‘Have no care for him,’ answered the Vizier. ‘By Allah, no hurt will befall him! Leave him in prison for a month, till his humour yield and his spirit be broken and he return to his senses.’ As he spoke, in came the eunuch, in the aforesaid plight, and said to the King, who was troubled at sight of him, ‘O our lord the Sultan, thy son’s wits are fled and he has gone mad; he has dealt with me thus and thus, so that I am become as thou seest, and says, “A young lady lay with me this night and stole away whilst I slept. Where is she?” And insists on my telling him where she is and who took her away. But I have seen neither girl nor boy; the door was locked all night, for I slept before it, with the key under my head, and opened to him in the morning with my own hand.’ When the King heard this, he cried out, saying, ‘Alas, my son!’ And he was sore enraged against the Vizier, who had been the cause of all this, and said to him, ‘Go, bring me news of my son and see what hath befallen his wit.’ So the Vizier rose and hastened with the slave to the tower, tumbling over his skirts, in his fear of the King’s anger. The sun had now risen and when he came in to Kemerezzeman, he found him sitting on the couch, reading the Koran; so he saluted him and sitting down by his side, said to him, ‘O my lord, this wretched slave brought us news that disquieted and alarmed us and incensed the King.’ ‘And what,’ asked Kemerezzeman, ‘hath he told you of me, to trouble my father? In good sooth, he hath troubled none but me.’ ‘He came to us in a sorry plight,’ answered the Vizier, ‘and told us of thee a thing which God forfend and a lie which it befits not to repeat, may God preserve thy youth and sound wit and eloquent tongue and forbid aught of foul to come from thee!’ ‘O Vizier,’ said the prince, ‘what did this pestilent slave say of me?’ ‘He told us,’ replied the Vizier, ‘thou hadst taken leave of thy wits and would have it that a young lady lay with thee last night and wast instant with him to tell thee whither she had gone and didst torture him to that end.’ When Kemerezzeman heard this, he was sore enraged and said to the Vizier, ‘It is manifest to me that you taught the eunuch to do as he did and forbade him to tell me what became of the young lady. But thou, O Vizier, art more reasonable than the eunuch; so do thou tell me forthright whither went the young lady that lay in my bosom last night; for it was you who sent her and bade her sleep in my arms, and we lay together till day; but when I awoke, I found her not. So where is she now?’ ‘O my lord Kemerezzeman,’ said the Vizier, ‘the name of God encompass thee! By Allah, we sent none to thee last night, but thou layest alone, with the door locked on thee and the eunuch sleeping before it, nor did there come to thee a young lady or any other. Stablish thy reason, O my lord, and return to thy senses and occupy thy mind no longer [with vain imaginations].’ ‘O Vizier,’ rejoined Kemerezzeman, incensed at his words, ‘the young lady in question is my beloved, the fair one with the black eyes and red cheeks, whom I held in my arms all last night.’ The Vizier wondered at his words and said to him, ‘Didst thou see this damsel with thine eyes and on wake, or in sleep?’ ‘O wretched old man,’ answered Kemerezzeman, ‘thinkest thou I saw her with my ears? Indeed, I saw her with my very eyes and on wake and touched her with my hand and watched by her half the night, gazing my fill on her beauty and grace and elegance and lovely looks. But thou hadst schooled her and charged her to speak no word to me; so she feigned sleep and I lay by her side till morning, when I awoke and found her gone.’ ‘O my lord Kemerezzeman,’ rejoined the Vizier, ‘surely thou sawest this in thy sleep; it must have been a delusion of dreams or a hallucination caused by eating various kinds of food or a suggestion of the accursed devils.’ ‘O pestilent old man,’ cried the prince, ‘wilt thou too make a mock of me and tell me this was an illusion of dreams, when this eunuch confessed to the young lady, saying, “I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee all about her?”‘ So saying, he sprang up and laying hold of the Vizier’s long beard, twisted his hand in it and tugging him off the couch, threw him on the floor. It seemed to the Vizier as though his soul departed his body for the violent plucking at his beard, and Kemerezzeman fell to kicking him and pummelling his breast and sides and cuffing him on the nape, till he had well-nigh made an end of him. Then said the Vizier in himself, ‘I must save myself from this madman by telling him a lie, even as did the eunuch; else he will kill me, for he is mad beyond a doubt.’ So he said to Kemerezzeman, ‘O my lord, bear me not malice, for indeed thy father charged me to conceal from thee this affair of the young lady; but now I am weak and weary and sore with beating; for I am an old man and lack strength to endure blows. So have a little patience with me and I will tell thee all.’ When the prince heard this, he left beating him and said, ‘Why couldst thou not tell me without blows and humiliation? Rise now, unlucky old man that thou art, and tell me her story.’ Quoth the Vizier, ‘Dost thou ask of the young lady with the fair face and perfect shape?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Kemerezzeman. ‘Tell me who it was laid her by my side and took her away by night, and let me know whither she is gone, that I may go to her. If my father did this to try me, with a view to our marriage, I consent to marry her and be quit of this trouble; for he only dealt thus with me, because I refused to marry. I say again, I consent to marry: so tell this to my father, O Vizier, and advise him to marry me to her, for I will have none other and my heart loveth her alone. Go now to my father and counsel him to hasten our marriage and bring me his answer forthright.’ ‘It is well,’ rejoined the Vizier, and went out from him, hardly crediting his escape. Then he set off running and stumbling as he went, for excess of affright and agitation, till he came in to the King, who said to him, ‘O Vizier, what has befallen thee and who has maltreated thee and how comes it that I see thee thus confounded and terrified?’ ‘O King,’ answered the Vizier, ‘I bring thee news.’ ‘What is it?’ asked Shehriman, and the Vizier said, ‘Know that thy son Kemerezzeman’s wits are gone and that madness hath betided him.’ When the King heard this, the light in his face became darkness and he said, ‘Expound to me the nature of my son’s madness.’ ‘O my lord,’ answered the Vizier, ‘I hear and obey.’ Then he told him all that had passed and the King said to him, ‘O most ill-omened of Viziers and filthiest of Amirs, know that the reward I will give thee in return for this thy news of my son’s madness shall be the cutting off of thy bead and the forfeiture of thy goods; for thou hast caused my son’s disorder by the wicked and sinister counsel thou hast given me first and last. By Allah, if aught of mischief or madness have befallen him, I will nail thee upon the dome [of the palace] and make thee taste the bitterness of death!’ Then rising, he betook himself with the Vizier to the tower, and when Kemerezzeman saw him, he came down to him in haste from the couch on which he sat and kissing his hands, drew back and stood before him awhile, with his eyes cast down and his hands clasped behind him. Then he raised his head and repeated the following verses, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks:

If I have borne myself blameworthily to you Or if I’ve made default in that which is your due,
I do repent my fault; so let your clemency Th’ offender comprehend, who doth for pardon sue.

When the King heard this, he embraced his son and kissing him between the eyes, made him sit by his side on the couch; then turned to the Vizier and looking on him with angry eyes, said to him, ‘O dog of a Vizier, why didst thou tell me that my son was mad and make my heart quake for him?’ Then he turned to the prince and said to him, ‘O my son, what is to-day called?’ ‘O my father,’ answered he, ‘to-day is Saturday and to-morrow Sunday: then come Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.’ ‘O my son, O Kemerezzeman,’ exclaimed the King, ‘praised be God for the preservation of thy reason! What is this present month called in Arabic?’

‘Dhoulcaadeh,’ answered Kemerezzeman, ‘and it is followed by Dhoulhejjeh; then comes Muherrem, then Sefer, then Rebia the First and Rebia the Second, the two Jumadas, Rejeb, Shaaban, Ramazan and Shewwal.’ At this the King rejoiced exceedingly and spat in the Vizier’s face, saying, ‘O wicked old man, how canst thou pretend that my son is mad? None is mad but thou.’ The Vizier shook his head and would have spoken, but bethought himself to wait awhile and see what befell. Then the King said to Kemerezzeman, ‘O my son, what is this thou sayest to the eunuch and the Vizier of a fair damsel that lay with thee last night? What damsel is this of whom thou speakest?’ Kemerezzeman laughed at his father’s words and replied, ‘O my father, I can bear no more jesting; so mock me not with another word, for my humour is soured by that you have done with me. Let it suffice thee to know that I consent to marry, but on condition that thou give me to wife her with whom I lay yesternight; for I am assured that it was thou sentest her to me and madest me in love with her, then tookest her away from beside me before the dawn.’ ‘O my son,’ rejoined the King, ‘the name of God encompass thee and preserve thy wit from madness! What young lady is this of whom thou talkest? By Allah, O my son, I know nothing of the affair, and I conjure thee, tell me if it be a delusion of sleep or a hallucination caused by food? Doubtless, thou layest down to sleep last night, with thy mind occupied with marriage and troubled with the thought of it (may God curse marriage and the hour in which it occurred to me and him who counselled it!) and dreamtest that a handsome young lady embraced thee and didst fancy thou sawst her on wake; but all this, O my son, is but an illusion of dreams.’ ‘Leave this talk,’ replied Kemerezzeman, ‘and swear to me by God, the All-wise Creator, the Humbler of the mighty and the Destroyer of the Chosroes, that thou knowest nothing of the young lady nor of her abiding-place.’ ‘By the virtue of the Most High God,’ said the King, ‘the God of Moses and Abraham, I know nothing of all this and it is assuredly but an illusion of dreams that thou hast seen in sleep.’ Quoth the prince, ‘I will give thee a proof that it was not a dream. Come, let me put a case to thee: did it ever happen to any to dream that he was fighting a sore battle and after to awake and find in his hand a sword besmeared with blood?’ ‘No, by Allah, O my son,’ answered the King, ‘this hath never been.’ ‘I will tell thee what happened to me,’ rejoined Kemerezzeman. ‘Meseemed I awoke from sleep in the middle of the past night and found a young lady lying by my side, whose shape and favour were as mine. I embraced her and turned her about with my hand and took her ring, which I put on my finger, and she pulled off my ring and put it on her finger. Then I went to sleep by her side, but refrained from her and was ashamed to kiss her on the mouth, deeming that thou hadst sent her to me, with intent to tempt me with her and incline me to marriage, and misdoubting thee to be hidden somewhere whence thou couldst see what I did with her. At point of day, I awoke and found no trace of her, nor could I come at any news of her, and there befell me what thou knowest of with the eunuch and the Vizier. How then can this have been a dream and a delusion, seeing that the ring is a reality? I should indeed have deemed it a dream but for her ring on my finger. Here it is: look at it, O King, and see what is its worth.’ So saying, he handed the ring to his father, who examined it and turned it over, then said to his son, ‘Verily, there hangs some mighty mystery by this ring and some strange secret. What befell thee last night is indeed a mysterious affair and I know not how this intruder came in upon us. None is the cause of all this trouble save the Vizier; but I conjure thee, O my son, to take patience, so haply God may do away this affliction from thee and bring thee complete relief: as quoth one of the poets:

It may be Fate at last shall draw its bridle-rein And bring us happy chance; for Fortune changes still; And things shall happen yet, despite the things fordone, To further forth my hopes and bring me to my will.

And now, O my son,’ added he, ‘I am certified that thou art not mad; but thy case is a strange one, none can unravel it for thee but God the Most High.’ ‘By Allah, O my father,’ cried the prince, ‘deal kindly with me and seek out this damsel and hasten her coming to me; else I shall die of grief.’ And he repeated the following verses, in a voice that betrayed the ardour of his passion:

An if thy very promise of union prove untrue, Let but in sleep thy favours the longing lover cheer.
“How can the phantom visit a lover’s eyes,” quoth they, “From which the grace of slumber is banned and banished sheer?”

And he sighed and wept and groaned aloud from a wounded heart, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes. Then turning to his father, with submission and despondency, he said to him, ‘By Allah, O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from her even for an hour.’ The King smote hand upon hand and exclaimed, ‘There is no power and no virtue but in God, the Most High, the Sublime! There is no device can profit us in this affair!’ Then he took his son by the hand and carried him to the palace, where Kemerezzeman lay down on the bed of languor and the King sat at his head, weeping and mourning over him and leaving him not night or day, till at last the Vizier came in to him and said, ‘O King of the age and the time, how long wilt thou remain shut up with thy son and deny thyself to thy troops? Verily, the order of thy realm is like to be deranged, by reason of thine absence from thy grandees and officers of state. It behoves the man of understanding, if he have various wounds in his body, to apply him (first) to heal the most dangerous; so it is my counsel to thee that thou transport the prince to the pavilion overlooking the sea and shut thyself up with him there, setting apart Monday and Thursday in every week for state receptions and the transaction of public business. On these days let thine Amirs and Viziers and Chamberlains and deputies and captains and grandees and the rest of the troops and subjects have access to thee and submit their affairs to thee, and do thou their needs and judge between them and give and take with them and command and forbid. The rest of the week thou shalt pass with thy son Kemerezzeman, and thus do till God vouchsafe you both relief. Think not, O King, that thou art exempt from the shifts of fortune and the strokes of calamity; for the wise man is still on his guard, as well saith the poet:

Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, whenas the days were fair, And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee might bring.
The nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wast deceived by them, For in the peace of night is born full many a troublous thing.
O all ye children of mankind, to whom the Fates are kind, Let caution ever have a part in all your reckoning.’

The King was struck with the Vizier’s words and deemed his counsel wise and timely, fearing lest the order of the state be deranged; so he rose at once and bade carry his son to the pavilion in question, which was built (upon a rock) midmost the water and was approached by a causeway, twenty cubits wide. It had windows on all sides, overlooking the sea; its floor was of variegated marble and its roof was painted in the richest colours and decorated with gold and lapis-lazuli. They furnished it for Kemerezzeman with embroidered rugs and carpets of the richest silk and hung the walls with choice brocades and curtains bespangled with jewels. In the midst they set him a couch of juniper-wood, inlaid with pearls and jewels, and he sat down thereon, like a man that had been sick twenty years; for the excess of his concern and passion for the young lady had wasted his charms and emaciated his body, and he could neither eat nor drink nor sleep. His father seated himself at his head, mourning sore for him, and every Monday and Thursday he gave his Viziers and Amirs and grandees and officers and the rest of his subjects leave to come in to him in the pavilion. So they entered and did their several service and abode with him till the end of the day, when they went their ways and he returned to his son, whom he left not night nor day; and on this wise did he many days and nights.

To return to the Princess Budour. When the two Afrits carried her back to her palace and laid her on her bed, she slept on till daybreak, when she awoke and sitting up, looked right and left, but saw not the youth who had lain in her bosom. At this, her heart was troubled, her reason fled and she gave a great cry, whereupon all her damsels and nurses and serving-women awoke and came in to her; and the chief of them said to her, ‘What ails thee, O my lady?’ ‘O wretched old woman,’ answered the princess, ‘where is my beloved, the handsome youth that lay last night in my bosom? Tell me where he is gone.’ When the old woman heard this, the light in her eyes became darkness and she was sore in fear of her mischief and said to her, ‘O my lady Budour, what unseemly words are these?’ ‘Out on thee, pestilent crone that thou art!’ cried the princess. ‘Where is my beloved, the goodly youth with the shining face and the slender shape, the black eyes and the joined eyebrows, who lay with me last night from dusk until near daybreak?’ ‘By Allah, O my lady,’ replied the old woman, ‘I have seen no young man nor any other; but I conjure thee, leave this unseemly jesting, lest we be all undone. Belike, it may come to thy father’s ears and who shall deliver us from his hand?’ ‘I tell thee,’ rejoined Budour, ‘there lay a youth with me last night, one of the fairest-faced of men.’ ‘God preserve thy reason!’ exclaimed the nurse. ‘Indeed, no one lay with thee last night.’ The princess looked at her hand and seeing her own ring gone and Kemerezzeman’s ring on her finger in its stead, said to the nurse, ‘Out on thee, thou accursed traitress, wilt thou lie to me and tell me that none lay with me last night and forswear thyself to me?’ ‘By Allah,’ replied the nurse, ‘I do not lie to thee nor have I sworn falsely!’ Her words incensed the princess and drawing a sword she had by her, she smote the old woman with it and slew her; whereupon the eunuch and the waiting-women cried out at her and running to her father, acquainted him with her case. So he went to her forthright and said to her, ‘O my daughter, what ails thee?’ ‘O my father,’ answered she, ‘where is the young man that lay with me last night?’ Then her reason left her and she cast her eyes right and left and rent her dress even to the skirt. When the King saw this, he bade the women lay hands on her; so they seized and bound her, then putting a chain of iron about her neck, made her fast to the window and there left her. As for her father, the world was straitened upon him, when he saw what had befallen her, for that he loved her and her case was not a little thing to him. So he summoned the doctors and astrologers and magicians and said to them, ‘Whoso cureth my daughter of her disorder, I will marry him to her and give him half my kingdom; but whoso cometh to her and cureth her not, I will strike off his head and hang it over her palace-gate.’ Accordingly, all who went in to her, but failed to cure her, he beheaded and hung their heads over her palace-gate, till he had beheaded forty physicians and crucified as many astrologers on her account; wherefore all the folk held aloof from her, for all the physicians failed to cure her malady and her case was a puzzle to the men of science and the magicians. And as her longing and passion redoubled and love and distraction were sore upon her, she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

My longing after thee, my moon, my foeman is; The thought of thee by night doth comrade with me dwell.
I pass the darksome hours, and in my bosom flames A fire, for heat that’s like the very fire of hell. I’m smitten with excess of ardour and desire; By which my pain is grown an anguish fierce and fell.

Then she sighed and repeated these also:

My peace on the beloved ones, where’er they light them down! I weary for the neighbourhood of those I love, full sore. My salutation unto you,–not that of taking leave, But greetings of abundant peace, increasing evermore! For, of a truth, I love you dear and love your land no less; But woe is me! I’m far away from that I weary for.

Then she wept till her eyes grew weak and her cheeks pale and withered: and thus she abode three years. Now she had a foster-brother, by name Merzewan, who was absent from her all this time, travelling in far countries. He loved her with an exceeding love, passing that of brothers; so when he came back, he went in to his mother and asked for his foster-sister the princess Budour. ‘Alas, my son,’ answered she, ‘thy sister has been smitten with madness and has passed these three years, with an iron chain about her neck; and all the physicians and men of science have failed of curing her.’ When he heard this, he said, ‘I must needs go in to her; peradventure I may discover what ails her, and be able to cure her.’ ‘So be it,’ replied his mother; ‘but wait till to-morrow, that I may make shift for thee.’ Then she went to the princess’s palace and accosting the eunuch in charge of the door, made him a present and said to him, ‘I have a married daughter, who was brought up with thy mistress and is sore concerned for what has befallen her, and I desire of thy favour that my daughter may go in to her and look on her awhile, then return whence she came, and none shall know it.’ ‘This may not be, except by night,’ replied the eunuch, ‘after the King has visited the princess and gone away; then come thou and thy daughter.’ She kissed the eunuch’s hand and returning home, waited till the morrow at nightfall, when she dressed her son in woman’s apparel and taking him by the hand, carried him to the palace. When the eunuch saw her, he said, ‘Enter, but do not tarry long.’ So they went in and when Merzewan saw the princess in the aforesaid plight, he saluted her, after his mother had taken off his woman’s attire: then pulling out the books he had brought with him and lighting a candle, he began to recite certain conjurations. The princess looked at him and knowing him, said to him, ‘O my brother, thou hast been absent on thy travels and we have been cut off from news of thee.’ ‘True,’ answered he; ‘but God has brought me back in safety and I am now minded to set out again; nor has aught delayed me but the sad news I hear of thee; wherefore my heart ached for thee and I came to thee, so haply I may rid thee of thy malady.’ ‘O my brother,’ rejoined she, ‘thinkest thou it is madness ails me?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he, and she said, ‘Not so, by Allah! It is even as says the poet:

Quoth they, “Thou’rt surely mad for him thou lov’st;” and I replied, “Indeed the sweets of life belong unto the raving race.
Lo, those who love have not, for that, the upper hand of fate; Only the madman ’tis, I trow, o’ercometh time and space. Yes, I am mad; so bring me him for whom ye say I’m mad; And if he heal my madness, spare to blame me for my case.”‘

Then she told him that she was in love, and he said, ‘Tell me thy story and what befell thee: peradventure God may discover to me a means of deliverance for thee.’ ‘Know then,’ said she, ‘that one night I awoke from sleep, in the last watch of the night, and sitting up, saw by my side the handsomest of youths, as he were a willow-wand or an Indian cane, the tongue fails to describe him. Me-thought this was my father’s doing to try me, for that he had consulted me, when the kings sought me of him in marriage, and I had refused. It was this idea that withheld me from arousing him, for I thought that if I did aught or embraced him, he would most like tell my father. When I awoke in the morning, I found his ring on my finger in place of my own, which he had taken; and, O my brother, my heart was taken with him at first sight; and for the violence of my passion and longing, I have never since known the taste of sleep and have no occupation save weeping and repeating verses night and day. This, then, O my brother, is the story of the cause of my (pretended) madness.’ Then she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

Love has banished afar my delight; they are fled With a fawn that hath hearts for a pasturing-stead.
To him lovers’ blood is a trifle, for whom My soul is a-wasting for passion and dread.
I’m jealous for him of my sight and my thought; My heart is a spy on my eyes and my head.
His eyelashes dart at us death-dealing shafts; The hearts that they light on are ruined and dead.
Whilst yet there is left me a share in the world, Shall I see him, I wonder, or ever I’m sped?
I fain would conceal what I suffer for him; ‘Tis shown to the spy by the tears that I shed.
When near, his enjoyment is distant from me: But his image is near, when afar he doth tread.

‘See then, O my brother,’ added she, ‘how thou mayest aid me in this my affliction.’ Merzewan bowed his head awhile, marvelling and knowing not what to do, then raised it and said to her, ‘I believe all thou hast said to be true, though the case of the young man passes my imagination: but I will go round about all countries and seek for what may heal thee; peradventure God shall appoint thy deliverance to be at my hand. Meanwhile, take patience and be not disquieted.’ So saying, he took leave of her, after he had prayed that she might be vouchsafed constancy, and left her repeating the following verses:

Thine image in my thoughts fares as a pilgrim aye, For all thy stead and mine are distant many a day. The wishes of my heart do bring thee near to me For ‘gainst the speed of thought what is the levin’s ray? Depart thou not, that art the lustre of mine eyes; Yea, when thou’rt far removed, all void of light are they.

He returned to his mother’s house, where he passed the night, and on the morrow, after furnishing himself for his journey, he set out and travelled from city to city and from island to island for a whole month. Everywhere he heard talk of the princess Budour’s madness, till he came to a city named Teyreb and seeking news of the townsfolk, so haply he might light on a cure for his foster-sister’s malady, heard that Kemerezzeman, son of King Shehriman, was fallen sick and afflicted with melancholy madness. He enquired the name of this prince’s capital and was told that it stood on the Islands of Khalidan and was distant thence a whole month’s journey by sea and six by land. So he took passage in a ship that was bound thither, and they sailed with a favouring breeze for a whole month, till they came in sight of the city and there remained for them but to enter the harbour; when there came out on them a tempestuous wind which carried away the masts and rent the canvas, so that the sails fell into the sea and the ship foundered, with all on board. Each looked to himself, and as for Merzewan, the current carried him under the King’s palace, wherein was Kemerezzeman. As fate would have it, it was the day on which the King gave audience to his grandees and officers, and he was sitting, with his son’s head in his lap, whilst an eunuch whisked away the flies. The prince had not spoken, neither had he eaten nor drunk for two days, and he was grown thinner than a spindle. Now the Vizier was standing near the window giving on the sea and raising his eyes, saw Merzewan at the last gasp for struggling with the waves; whereupon his heart was moved to pity for him and he drew near to the King and said to him, ‘O King, I crave thy leave to go down to the court of the pavilion and open the water-gate, that I may rescue a man who is at the point of drowning in the sea and bring him forth of peril into deliverance; peradventure, on this account, God may ease thy son of his affliction.’ ‘O Vizier,’ replied Shehriman, enough is that which has befallen my son through thee and on thine account. Belike, if thou rescue this drowning man, he will look on my son and come to know our affairs and exult over me; but I swear by Allah, that, if he come hither and see my son and after go out and speak of our secrets to any, I will assuredly strike off thy head before his; for thou art the cause of all that hath befallen us, first and last. Now do as thou wilt.’ The Vizier rose and opening the postern, descended to the causeway; then walked on twenty steps and came to the sea, where he saw Merzewan nigh unto death. So he put out his hand to him and catching him by the hair of his head, drew him ashore, in a state of unconsciousness, with belly full of water and eyes starting from his head. The Vizier waited till he came to himself, when he pulled off his wet clothes and clad him in a fresh suit, covering his head with one of his servants’ turbans; after which he said to him, ‘I have been the means of saving thee from drowning: do not thou requite me by causing my death and thine own.’ ‘How so?’ asked Merzewan; and the Vizier answered, ‘Thou art now about to go up and pass among Amirs and Viziers, all silent and speaking not, because of Kemerezzeman, the King’s son.’ When Merzewan heard the name of Kemerezzeman, he knew that this was he of whom he came in search, but he feigned ignorance and said to the Vizier, ‘And who is Kemerezzeman?’ Quoth the Vizier, ‘He is the King’s son and lies sick on his couch, restless, eating not nor drinking neither sleeping night nor day; indeed he is nigh upon death and we have lost hope of his recovery. Beware lest thou look too long on him or on any place other than that where thou settest thy feet: else thou art a lost man and I also.’ ‘O Vizier,’ said Merzewan, ‘I conjure thee by Allah, tell me of thy favour, the cause of this youth’s malady.’ ‘I know none,’ answered the Vizier, ‘save that, three years ago, his father pressed him to marry, but he refused; whereat the King was wroth and imprisoned him. On the morrow, he would have it that he had had, for a bedfellow, the night before, a young lady of surpassing beauty, beggaring description, with whom he had exchanged rings; but we know not the meaning of all this. So by Allah, O my son, when thou comest up into the palace, look not on the prince, but go thy way; for the King’s heart is full of anger against me.’ ‘By Allah,’ said Merzewan in himself, ‘this is he whom I sought!’ Then he followed the Vizier up to the palace, where the latter seated himself at the prince’s feet; but Merzewan must needs go up to Kemerezzeman and stand before him, gazing on him. At this, the Vizier was like to die of affright and signed to Merzewan to go his way; but he feigned not to see him and gave not over gazing upon Kemerezzeman, till he was assured that it was indeed he of whom he was in search. Then, ‘Glory be to God,’ cried he, ‘who hath made his shape even as her shape and his complexion as her complexion and his cheek as her cheek!’ At this Kemerezzeman opened his eyes and gave ear to his speech; and when Merzewan saw him listening, he repeated the following verses:

I see thee full of song and plaint and ecstasy amain, And to the setting forth in words of charms I find thee fain. Can it be love hath wounded thee or art thou shot with shafts? For sure these fashions but belong unto a smitten swain. Ho, pour me out full cups of wine and sing me eke, in praise Of Tenam, Suleyma, Rebaeb,[FN#35] a glad and lovesome strain! Yea, let the grape-vine’s sun[FN#36] go round, whose mansion is its jar, Whose East the cupbearer and West my thirsty mouth I feign.
I’m jealous of the very clothes she dights upon her side, For that upon her body soft and delicate they’ve lain; And eke I’m envious of the cups that touch her dainty lips, When to the kissing-place she sets them ever and again. Think not that I in anywise with sword am done to death; ‘Tis by the arrows of a glance, alack! that I am slain. Whenas we met again, I found her fingers dyed with red, As ’twere the juice of tragacanth had steeped them in its stain. Said I to her, “Thou’st dyed thy palms,[FN#37] whilst I was far away. This then is how the slave of love is ‘quited for his pain.”
Quoth she (and cast into my heart the flaming fires of love, Speaking as one who hath no care love’s secret to contain), “No, by thy life, this is no dye I’ve used! So haste thou not To heap accusings on my head and slander me in vain. For, when I saw thee get thee gone upon our parting day, My eyes, for very dreariment, with tears of blood did rain. I wiped them with my hand, and so my fingers with my blood Were all to-reddened and do yet their ruddy tint retain.” Had I for very passion wept, or e’er my mistress did, I should, before repentance came, have solaced heart and brain; But she before my weeping wept; her tears drew mine and so Quoth I, “Unto the precedent the merit doth pertain.” Chide not at me for loving her, for by Love’s self I swear, My heart with anguish for her sake is well-nigh cleft in twain. I weep for one whose face is decked by Beauty’s self; there’s none, Arab or foreigner, to match with her, in hill or plain.
The lore of Locman[FN#38] hath my love and Mary’s chastity, with Joseph’s loveliness to boot and David’s songful vein; Whilst Jacob’s grief to me belongs and Jonah’s dreariment, Ay, and Job’s torment and despite and Adam’s plight of bane. Slay ye her not, although I die for love of her, but ask, How came it lawful unto her to shed my blood in vain.

When Kemerezzeman heard these verses, they brought refreshment and healing to his heart, and he sighed and turning his tongue in his mouth, said to the King, ‘O my father, let this young man come and sit by my side.’ The King, hearing these words from his son, rejoiced exceedingly, though at the first he had been wroth with Merzewan and thought in himself to have stricken off his head: but when he heard Kemerezzeman speak, his anger left him and he arose and drawing Merzewan to him, made him sit down by his son and said to him, ‘Praised be God for thy safety!’ ‘May God bless thee,’ answered Merzewan, ‘and preserve thy son to thee!’ Then said the King, ‘From what country comest thou?’ ‘From the Islands of the Inland Sea,’ replied he, ‘the kingdom of King Ghaiour, lord of the Islands and the seas and the Seven Palaces.’ Quoth the King, ‘Maybe thy coming shall be blessed to my son and God vouchsafe to heal him of his malady.’ ‘God willing,’ rejoined Merzewan, ‘all shall yet be well.’ Then turning to Kemerezzeman, he said to him in his ear, unheard of the King and his court, ‘Be of good cheer, O my lord, and take heart and courage. As for her for whose sake thou art thus, ask not of her condition on thine account. Thou keptest thy secret and fellest sick, but she discovered hers and they said she was mad; and she is now in prison, with an iron chain about her neck, in most piteous case; but, God willing, the healing of both of you shall be at my hand.’ When Kemerezzeman heard this, his life returned to him and he took heart and courage and signed to his father to help him sit up; at which the King was like to lose his reason for joy and lifting him up, set two pillows for him to lean upon. Then, of his fear for his son, he shook the handkerchief of dismissal and all the Amirs and Viziers withdrew; after which he bade perfume the palace with saffron and decorate the city, saying to Merzewan, ‘By Allah, O my son, thou hast a lucky and a blessed aspect!’ And he made much of him and called for food, which when they brought, Merzewan said to the prince, ‘Come, eat with me.’ So he obeyed him and ate with him, while the King called down blessings on Merzewan and said, ‘How auspicious is thy coming, O my son!’ When he saw Kemerezzeman eat, his joy redoubled and he went out and told the prince’s mother and the people of the palace. Then he let call abroad the good news of the prince’s recovery and proclaimed the decoration of the city: so the people rejoiced and decorated the city and it was a day of high festival. Merzewan passed the night with Kemerezzeman, and the King also slept with them, in the excess of his joy for his son’s recovery. Next morning, when the King had gone away and the two young men were left alone, Kemerezzeman told Merzewan his story from first to last and the latter said to him, ‘I know her with whom thou didst foregather; her name is the princess Budour and she is daughter to King Ghaiour.’ Then he told him all that had befallen the princess and acquainted him with the excessive love she bore him, saying, ‘All that befell thee with thy father hath befallen her with hers, and thou art without doubt her beloved, even as she is thine; so brace up thy resolution and take heart, for I will bring thee to her and unite you both anon and deal with you even as saith the poet:

Though to the lover adverse be the fair And drive him with her rigours to despair,
Yet will I soon unite them, even as I The pivot of a pair of scissors were.

And he went on to comfort and hearten Kemerezzeman and urged him to eat and drink, cheering him and diverting him with talk and song and stories, till he ate food and drank wine and life and strength returned to him. In good time he became free of his disorder and stood up and sought to go to the bath. So Merzewan took him by the hand and carried him to the bath, where they washed their bodies and made them clean. When his father heard of this, in his joy he freed the prisoners and gave alms to the poor; moreover he bestowed splendid dresses of honour upon his grandees and let decorate the city seven days. Then said Merzewan to Kemerezzeman, ‘Know, O my lord, that the sole object of my journey hither was to deliver the princess Budour from her present strait; and it remains but for us to devise how we may get to her, since thy father cannot brook the thought of parting with thee. So it is my counsel that tomorrow thou ask his leave to go a-hunting, saying, “I have a mind to divert myself with hunting in the desert and to see the open country and pass the night there.” Then do thou take with thee a pair of saddle-bags full of gold and mount a swift hackney and I will do the like; and we will take each a spare horse. Suffer not any servant to follow us, for as soon as we reach the open country, we will go our ways.’ Kemerezzeman rejoiced mightily in this plan and said, ‘It is good.’ Then he took heart and going in to his father, sought his leave to go out to hunt, saying as Merzewan had taught him. The King consented and said, ‘O my son, a thousandfold blessed be the day that restores thee to health! I will not gainsay thee in this; but pass not more than one night in the desert and return to me on the morrow; for thou knowest that life is not good to me without thee, and indeed I can hardly as yet credit thy recovery, because thou art to me as he of whom quoth the poet:

Though Solomon his carpet were mine both day and night, Though the Choeroes’ empire, yea, and the world were mine, All were to me in value less than a midge’s wing, Except mine eyes still rested upon that face of thine.’

Then he equipped the prince and Merzewan for the excursion, bidding make them ready four horses, together with a dromedary to carry the money and a camel for the water and victuals; and Kemerezzeman forbade any of his attendants to follow him. His father bade him farewell and pressed him to his breast and kissed him, saying, ‘I conjure thee by Allah, be not absent from me more than one night, wherein sleep will be denied me, for I am even as saith the poet:

Thy presence with me is my heaven of delight And my hell of affliction the loss of thy sight.
My soul be thy ransom! If love be my crime For thee, my offence, of a truth, is not light.
Doth passion blaze up in thy heart like to mine? I suffer the torments of hell day and night.’

‘O my father,’ answered Kemerezzeman, ‘God willing, I will lie but one night abroad.’ Then he took leave of him, and he and Merzewan mounted and taking with them the dromedary and camel, rode out into the open country. They drew not bridle from the first of the day till nightfall, when they halted and ate and drank and fed their beasts and rested awhile; after which they again took horse and fared on three days, till they came to a spacious wooded tract. Here they alighted and Merzewan, taking the camel and one of the horses, slaughtered them and cut the flesh off their bones. Then he took from Kemerezzeman his shirt and trousers and cassock and tearing them in shreds, smeared them with the horse’s blood and cast them down in the fork of the road. Then they ate and drank and taking horse set forward again. ‘O my brother,’ said Kemerezzeman, ‘what is this thou hast done and how will it profit us?’ ‘Know,’ answered Merzewan, ‘that thy father, when he finds that we have outstayed the night for which we had his leave, will mount and follow in our track till he comes hither; and when he sees the blood and thy clothes torn and bloodied, he will deem thee to have been slain of highway robbers or wild beasts; so he will give up hope of thee and return to his city, and by this devise we shall gain our end.’ ‘By Allah,’ said Kemerezzeman, ‘this is indeed a rare device! Thou hast done well.’ Then they fared on days and nights and Kemerezzeman did nought but weep and complain, till they drew near their journey’s end, when he rejoiced and repeated the following verses:

Wilt thou be harsh to a lover, who’s never unmindful of thee, And wilt thou now cast him away to whom thou wast fain heretofore?
May I forfeit the favour of God, if I ever was false to thy love! Abandonment punish my crime, if I’ve broken the vows that I swore!
But no, I’ve committed no crime, that calleth for rigour from thee; Or, if in good sooth I’m at fault, I bring thee repentance therefor.
Of the marvels of Fortune it is that thou shouldst abandon me thus; But Fortune to bring to the light fresh marvels will never give o’er.

When he had made an end of these verses, Merzewan said to him, ‘See, yonder are King Ghaiour’s Islands.’ Whereat Kemerezzeman rejoiced with an exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had done and strained him to his bosom and kissed him between the eyes. They entered the city and took up their lodging at a khan, where they rested three days from the fatigues of the journey; after which Merzewan carried Kemerezzeman to the bath and clothing him in a merchant’s habit, provided him with a geomantic tablet of gold, a set of astrological instruments and an astrolabe of silver, plated with gold. Then he said to him, ‘Go, O my lord, stand before the King’s palace and cry out, “I am the mathematician, I am the scribe, I am he that knows the Sought and the Seeker, I am the skilled physician, I am the accomplished astrologer. Where then is he that seeketh?” When the King hears this, he will send after thee and carry thee in to his daughter the princess Budour, thy mistress: but do thou say to him, “Grant me three days’ delay, and if she recover, give her to me to wife, and if not, deal with me as with those who came before me.” If he agree to this, as soon as thou art alone with her, discover thyself to her; and when she knows thee, her madness will cease from her and she will be made whole in one night. Then do thou give her to eat and drink, and her father, rejoicing in her recovery, will marry thee to her and share his kingdom with thee, according to the condition he hath imposed on himself: and so peace be on thee.’ ‘May I never lack thine excellence!’ replied Kemerezzeman, and taking the instruments aforesaid, sallied forth of the khan and took up his station before King Ghaiour’s palace, where he began to cry out, saying, ‘I am the scribe, I am the mathematician, he that knows the Sought and the Seeker, I am he who makes calculations for marriage contracts, who draws horoscopes, interprets dreams and traces the magical characters by which hidden treasures are discovered! Where then is the seeker?’ When the people of the city heard this, they flocked to him, for it was long since they had seen a scribe or an astrologer, and stood round him, wondering at his beauty and grace and perfect symmetry. Presently one of them accosted him and said, ‘God on thee, O fair youth with the eloquent tongue, cast not thyself into perdition, in thy desire to marry the princess Budour! Do but look on yonder heads hung up; they are all those of men who have lost their lives in this same venture.’ He paid no heed to them, but cried out at the top of his voice, saying, ‘I am the doctor, the scribe! I am the astrologer, the mathematician!’ And all the townsfolk forbade him from this, but he heeded them not, saying in himself, ‘None knoweth desire save he who suffereth it.’ Then he began again to cry his loudest, saying, ‘I am the scribe, I am the mathematician, I am the astrologer!’ till all the townsfolk were wroth with him and said to him, ‘Thou art but a silly self-willed boy! Have pity on thine own youth and tender years and beauty and grace.’ But he cried all the more, ‘I am the astrologer, I am the mathematician! Is there any one that seeketh?’ As he was thus crying and the people remonstrating with him, King Ghaiour heard his voice and the clamour of the folk and said to his Vizier, ‘Go down and bring me yon astrologer.’ So the Vizier went down and taking Kemerezzeman from the midst of the crowd, carried him up to the King, before whom he kissed the earth, repeating the following verses:

Eight elements of high renown are all comprised in thee; By them may Fortune never cease thy bounder slave to be! Munificence and knowledge sure, glory and piety, Fair fluent speech and eloquence and might and victory.

When the King saw him, he made him sit down by his side and said to him, ‘By Allah, O my son, an thou be not an astrologer, venture not thy life nor submit thyself to my condition; for I have bound myself to strike off the head of whoso goeth in to my daughter and healeth her not of her disorder; but him who healeth her I will marry to her. So let not thy beauty and grace delude thee; for, by Allah, if thou cure her not, I will assuredly cut off thy head!’ ‘I knew of this condition before I came hither,’ answered Kemerezzeman, ‘and am ready to abide by it.’ Then King Ghaiour took the Cadis to witness against him and delivered him to an eunuch, saying, ‘Carry this fellow to the lady Budour.’ So the eunuch took him by the hand and led him along the gallery; but Kemerezzeman out-went him and pushed on before, whilst the eunuch ran after him, saying, ‘Out on thee! Hasten not to destroy thyself. By Allah, never yet saw I astrologer so eager for his own destruction: thou knowest not the calamities that await thee.’ But Kemerezzeman turned away his face and repeated the following verses:

A learned man, I’m ignorant before thy beauties bright; Indeed, I know not what I say, confounded at thy sight. If I compare thee to the sun, thou passest not away, Whilst the sun setteth from the sky and fails anon of light. Perfect, indeed, thy beauties are; they stupefy the wise Nor ev’n the eloquent avail to praise thy charms aright.

The eunuch stationed Kemerezzeman behind the curtain of the princess’s door and the prince said to him, ‘Whether of the two wilt thou liefer have me do, cure thy lady from here or go in and cure her within the curtain?’ The eunuch marvelled at his words and answered, ‘It were more to thine honour to cure her from here.’ So Kemerezzeman sat down behind the curtain and taking out pen and inkhorn and paper, wrote the following: ‘This is the letter of one whom passion torments and whom desire consumes and sorrow and misery destroy; one who despairs of life and looks for nothing but death, whose mourning heart has neither comforter nor helper, whose sleepless eyes have none to succour them against affliction, whose day is passed in fire and his night in torment, whose body is wasted for much emaciation and there comes to him no messenger from his beloved:

I write with a heart devoted to thee and the thought of thee And an eyelid, wounded for weeping tears of the blood of me. And a body that love and affliction and passion and long desire Have clad with the garment of leanness and wasted utterly. I plain me to thee of passion, for sore hath it baffled me Nor is there a corner left me where patience yet may be. Wherefore, have mercy, I prithee, show favour unto me, For my heart, my heart is breaking for love and agony.

The cure of hearts is union with the beloved and whom his love maltreateth, God is his physician. If either of us have broken faith, may the false one fail of his desire! There is nought goodlier than a lover who is faithful to a cruel beloved one.’ Then, for a subscription, he wrote, ‘From the distracted and despairing lover, him whom love and longing disquiet, from the captive of passion and transport, Kemerezzeman, son of Shehriman, to the peerless beauty, the pearl of the fair Houris, the Lady Budour, daughter of King Ghaiour. Know that by night I am wakeful and by day distraught, consumed with ever-increasing wasting and sickness and longing and love, abounding in sighs, rich in floods of tears, the prisoner of passion, the slain of desire, the debtor of longing, the boon-companion of sickness, he whose heart absence hath seared. I am the sleepless one, whose eyes close not, the slave of love, whose tears run never dry, for the fire of my heart is still unquenched and the flaming of my longing is never hidden.’ Then in the margin he wrote this admired verse:

Peace from the stores of the grace of my Lord be rife On her in whose hand are my heart and soul and life!

And also these:

Vouchsafe thy converse unto me some little, so, perchance, Thou mayst have ruth on me or else my heart be set at ease. Yea, for the transport of my love and longing after thee, Of all I’ve suffered I make light and all my miseries. God guard a folk whose dwelling-place is far removed from mine, The secret of whose love I’ve kept in many lands and seas! But fate, at last, hath turned on me a favourable face And on my loved one’s threshold-earth hath cast me on my knees. Budour beside me in the bed I saw and straight my moon, Lit by her sun, shone bright and blithe upon my destinies.[FN#39]

Then by way of subscription, he wrote the following verses:

Ask of my letter what my pen hath written, and the scroll Will tell the passion and the pain that harbour in my soul. My hand, what while my tears rain down, writes and desire makes moan Unto the paper by the pen of all my weary dole. My tears roll ever down my cheeks and overflow the page; Nay, I’d ensue them with my blood, if they should cease to roll.

And at the end he added this other verse:

I send thee back herewith the ring I took whilere of thee, Whenas we companied; so send me that thou hadst of me.

Then he folded up Budour’s ring inside the letter and sealing it, gave it to the eunuch, who went in with it to the princess. She took it from him and opening it, found in it her own ring. Then she read the letter and when she understood its purport and knew that her beloved stood behind the curtain, her reason fled and her breast dilated for joy; and she repeated the following verses:

Long, long have I bewailed the sev’rance of our loves, With tears that from my lids streamed down like burning rain, And vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should never speak of severance again.
Joy hath o’erwhelmed me so that, for the very stress Of that which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain. Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, So that ye weep as well for gladness as for pain.

Then she rose and setting her feet to the wall, strained with all her might upon the iron collar, till she broke it from her neck and snapped the chains; then going forth, she threw herself on Kemerezzeman and kissed him on the mouth, like a pigeon billing. And she embraced him with all the stress of her love and longing and said to him, ‘O my lord, do I wake or sleep and has God indeed vouchsafed us reunion after separation? Praised be He who hath reknit our loves, after despair!’ When the eunuch saw this, he ran to King Ghaiour and kissing the earth before him, said, ‘O my lord, know that this is indeed the prince and paragon of astrologers; for he hath cured thy daughter from behind the curtain, without going in to her.’ ‘Look to it well,’ said the King; ‘is this news true?’ ‘O my lord,’ answered the eunuch, ‘come and see for thyself how she hath found strength to break the iron chains and is come forth to the astrologer, kissing and embracing him.’ So the King arose and went in to his daughter, who, when she saw him, rose and covered her face, reciting the following verses:

I love not the toothstick; ’tis hateful to me, For I, when I name it, say, “Other than thee.”[FN#40]
But I love, notwithstanding, the capparis-tree, For, whenas I name it I say, “Thee I see.”[FN#41]

The King was transported for joy at her recovery and kissed her between the eyes, for he loved her very dearly; then turning to Kemerezzeman, he asked him who he was and whence he came. The prince told him his name and rank and that he was the son of King Shehriman, and related to him the whole story from beginning to end; whereat Ghaiour marvelled and said, ‘Verily, your story deserves to be recorded in books and read after you, generation after generation.’ Then he summoned Cadis and witnesses forthright and married the two lovers; after which he bade decorate the city seven days long. So they decorated the city and held high festival, and all the troops donned their richest clothes, whilst the drums beat and the criers announced the glad tidings. Then they spread the tables with all manner meats and unveiled the princess before Kemerezzeman, and behold, each was like unto the other in beauty and elegance and amorous grace. So the King rejoiced in the issue of her affair and in her marriage and praised God for that He had made her to fall in love with a goodly youth of the sons of the kings. Then Kemerezzeman went in to her and lay with her that night and took his will of her, whilst she in like manner fufilled her desire of him and enjoyed his beauty and grace; and they clipped each other till the morning. On the morrow, the King made a banquet and spreading the tables with the richest meats, kept open house a whole month to all comers from the Islands of the Inner and the Outer Seas. Now, when Kemerezzeman had thus attained his desire and had tarried awhile with the princess Budour, he bethought him of his father and saw him in a dream, saying, ‘O my son, is it thus thou dealest with me?’ and reciting the following verses:

The moon o’ the dark by his neglect my spirit doth appal And to the watching of his stars hath made my eyelids thrall. But soft, my heart! It may be yet he will return to thee; And patience, soul, beneath the pain he’s smitten thee withal!

Kemerezzeman awoke in the morning, afflicted and troubled at what he had seen, whereupon the princess questioned him and he told her his dream. Then they both went in to King Ghaiour and telling him what had passed, besought his leave to depart. He gave the prince the leave he sought; but the princess said, ‘O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from him.’ Quoth Ghaiour, ‘Then go thou with him,’ and gave her leave to be absent a whole year, charging her to visit him once in every year thereafterward. So she kissed his hand and Kemerezzeman did the like; after which he proceeded to equip them for the journey, furnishing them with horses and dromedaries of choice and a litter for his daughter, besides mules and camels laden with victual and all manner of travelling gear. Moreover, he gave them slaves and eunuchs to serve them and bestowed on Kemerezzeman ten splendid suits of cloth of gold, embroidered with jewels, together with a treasury[FN#42] of money and ten riding horses and as many she-camels. When the day of departure arrived, the King accompanied them to the farthest limits of his islands, where, going in to his daughter Budour in the litter, he kissed her and strained her to his bosom, weeping and repeating the following verses:

O thou that seekest parting, stay thy feet, For sure embraces are a lover’s right.
Softly, for fortune’s nature is deceit And parting is the end of love-delight.

Then, leaving her, he kissed her husband and commended his daughter to his care; after which he bade him farewell and giving the signal for departure, returned to his capital with his troops. The prince and princess and their suite fared on without stopping a whole month, at the end of which time they came to a spacious champaign, abounding in pasturage, where they alighted and pitched their tents. They ate and drank and rested, and the princess Budour lay down to sleep. Presently, Kemerezzeman went in to her and found her lying asleep, in a shift of apricot-coloured silk, that showed all it should have covered, and a coif of cloth of gold embroidered with pearls and jewels. The breeze raised her shift and showed her breasts and navel and a belly whiter than snow, each one of whose dimples contained an ounce of benzoin ointment.[FN#43] At this sight, his love and passion for her redoubled, and he recited the following verses:

If, whilst within my entrails the fires of hell did stir And flames raged high about me, ’twere spoken in my ear, “Which wilt thou have the rather, a draught of water cold Or sight of her thou lovest?” I’d say, “The sight of her.”

Then he put his hand to the ribbon of her trousers and drew it and loosed it, for that his soul lusted after her, when he saw a jewel, red as dragon’s blood,[FN#44] made fast to the band. He untied and examined it and seeing two lines of writing graven thereon, in a character not to be read, marvelled and said in himself, ‘Except she set great store by this, she had not tied it to the ribbon of her trousers nor hidden it in the most private place about her person, that she might not be parted from it. I wonder what she doth with it and what is the secret that is in it.’ So saying, he took it and went without the tent to look at it in the light; but as he was examining it, a bird swooped down on him and snatching it from his hand, flew off with it and lighted on the ground at a little distance. Fearing to lose the talisman, he ran after the bird; but it flew on before him, keeping just out of his reach, and drew him on from place to place and from hill to hill, till the night came on and the air grew dark, when it roosted on a high tree. Kemerezzeman stopped under the tree, confounded and faint for hunger and weariness, and giving himself up for lost, would have turned back, but knew not the way, for the darkness had overtaken him. So he exclaimed, ‘There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!’ and lying down under the tree, slept till the morning, when he awoke and saw the bird also awake and fly away. He arose and walked after it, and it flew on little by little before him, after the measure of his going; at which he smiled and said, ‘By Allah, this is a strange thing! Yesterday, the bird flew before me as fast as I could run; and to-day, knowing that I am tired and cannot run, it flieth after the measure of my walking. By Allah, this is wonderful! But, whether it lead me to my death or to my life, I must needs follow it, wherever it goeth, for it will surely not abide save in some inhabited land. So he followed the bird, eating of the fruits of the earth and drinking of its waters, for ten days’ space, and every night the bird roosted on a tree. At the end of this time, he came in sight of an inhabited city, whereupon the bird darted off like the glance of the eye and entering the town, was lost to view: and Kemerezzeman marvelled at this and exclaimed, ‘Praised be God, who hath brought me hither in safety!’ Then he sat down by a stream and washed his hands and feet and face and rested awhile: and recalling his late easy and pleasant life of union with his beloved and contrasting it with his present plight of trouble and weariness and hunger and strangerhood and severance, the tears streamed from his eyes and he repeated the following cinquains:

I strove to hide the load that love on me did lay; In vain, and sleep for me is changed to wake alway. Whenas wanhope doth press my heart both night and day, I cry aloud, “O Fate, hold back thy hand, I pray. For all my soul is sick with dolour and dismay!” If but the Lord of Love were just indeed to me, Sleep had not fled mine eyes by his unkind decree.
Have pity, sweet, on one that is for love of thee Worn out and wasted sore; once rich and great was he, Now beggared and cast down by love from his array. The railers chide at thee full sore; I heed not, I, But stop my ears to them and give them back the lie. “Thou lov’st a slender one,” say they; and I reply, “I’ve chosen her and left all else beneath the sky.” Enough; when fate descends, the eyes are blinded aye.

As soon as he was rested, he rose and walked on, little by little, till he came to the city-gate and entered, knowing not whither he should go. He traversed the city from end to end, without meeting any of the townsfolk, entering by the land-gate and faring on till he came out at the sea-gate, for the city stood on the sea-shore. Presently, he found himself among the orchards and gardens of the place and passed among the trees, till he came to a garden-gate and stopped before it, whereupon the keeper came out to him and saluted him. The prince returned his greeting and the other bade him welcome, saying, ‘Praised be God that thou hast come off safe from the people of the city! Quick, come into the garden, ere any of the townsfolk see thee.’ So Kemerezzeman entered the garden, amazed, and said to the keeper, ‘Who and what then are the people of this city?’ ‘Know,’ answered the other,’ that the people of this city are all Magians: but, God on thee, tell me how and why thou camest hither.’ Accordingly, Kemerezzeman told him all that had befallen him, at which the gardener marvelled greatly and said, ‘Know, O my son, that from this place to the cities of Islam is four months’ journey by sea and a whole year by land. We have a ship that sails yearly hence with merchandise to the Ebony Islands, which are the nearest Muslim country, and thence to the Khalidan Islands, the dominions of King Shehriman.’ Kemerezzeman considered awhile and concluding that he could not do better than abide with the gardener and become his assistant, said to him, ‘Wilt thou take me into thy service, to help thee in this garden?’ ‘Willingly,’ answered the gardener and clothing him in a short blue gown, that reached to his knees, taught him to lead the water to the roots of the trees. So Kemerezzeman abode with him, watering the trees and hoeing up the weeds and weeping floods of tears; for he had no rest day or night, by reason of his strangerhood and separation from his beloved, and he ceased not to repeat verses upon her, amongst others the following:

Ye made us a promise of yore; will ye not to your promise be true? Ye spoke us a word aforetime; as ye spoke to us, will ye not do?
We waken, whilst ye are asleep, according to passion’s decree; So have ye the vantage of us, for watchers and sleepers are two.
We vowed to each other, whilere, that we would keep secret our loves; But the breedbate possessed you to speak, and you spoke and revealed what none knew.
Beloved in pleasure and pain, chagrin and contentment alike, Whate’er may betide, ye alone are the goal that my wishes ensue.
There’s one that still holdeth a heart, a heart sore tormented of mine; Ah, would she’d have ruth on my plight and pity the soul that she slew!
Not every one’s eye is as mine, worn wounded and cankered with tears, And hearts that are, even as mine, the bondslaves of passion, are few.
Ye acted the tyrant with me, saying, “Love is a tyrant, I trow.” Indeed, ye were right, and the case has proved what ye said to be true.
Alack! They’ve forgotten outright a passion-distraught one, whose faith Time ‘minisheth not, though the fires in his entrails rage ever anew.
If my foeman in love be my judge, to whom shall I make my complaint? To whom of injustice complain, to whom for redress shall I sue?
Were it not for my needing of love and the ardour that burns in my breast, I had not a heart love-enslaved and a soul that for passion must rue.

To return to the princess Budour. When she awoke, she sought her husband and found him not: then she saw the ribbon of her trousers undone and the talisman missing and said to herself, ‘By Allah, this is strange! Where is my husband? It would seem as if he had taken the talisman and gone away, knowing not the secret that is in it. Whither can he have gone? It must have been some extraordinary matter that drew him away, for he cannot brook to leave me an hour. May God curse the talisman and its hour!’ Then she considered awhile and said in herself, ‘If I go out and tell the servants that my husband is lost, they will covet me: I must use stratagem.’ So she rose and donned some of her husband’s clothes and boots and spurs and a turban like his, drawing the loose end across her face for a chin-band. Then setting a slave-girl in her litter, she went forth the tent and called to the servants, who brought her Kemerezzeman’s horse; and she mounted and bade load the beasts and set forward. So they bound on the burdens and departed, none doubting but she was Kemerezzeman, for she resembled him in face and form; nor did they leave journeying, days and nights, till they came in sight of a city overlooking the sea, when they halted to rest and pitched their tents without the walls. The princess asked the name of the place and was told, ‘It is called the City of Ebony: its king is named Armanous, and he hath a daughter called Heyat en Nufous.’ Presently, the King sent to learn who it was that had encamped without his city; so the messenger, coming to the tents, enquired of Budour’s servants and was told that she was a king’s son, bound for the Khalidan Islands, who had strayed from his road; whereupon he returned and told the King, who straightway took horse and rode out, with his nobles, to meet the strange prince. As he drew near the tents, the princess came to meet him on foot, whereupon the King alighted and they saluted each other. Then he carried her into the city and bringing her to the palace, let spread a banquet and bade transport her company and baggage to the guest-house, where they abode three days; at the end of which time the King came in to Budour (Now she had that day gone to the bath and her face shone as the moon at its full, enchanting all beholders, and she was clad in robes of silk, embroidered with gold and jewels) and said to her, ‘Know, O my son, that I am a very old man and am grown unable for the conduct of the state. Now God has blessed me with no child save one daughter, who resembles thee in beauty and grace; so, O my son, if this my country please thee and thou be willing to make thine abode here, I will marry thee to my daughter and give thee my kingdom and so be at rest.’ When Budour heard this, she bowed her head and her forehead sweated for shame, and she said to herself, ‘How shall I do, and I a woman? If I refuse and depart, I cannot be safe but that he may send after me troops to kill me; and if I consent, belike I shall be put to shame. I have lost my beloved Kemerezzeman and know not what is come of him; wherefore I see nothing for it but to hold my peace and consent and abide here, till God accomplish what is to be.’ So she raised her head and made submission to King Armanous, saying, ‘I hear and obey,’ whereat he rejoiced and bade make proclamation, throughout the Ebony Islands, to hold high festival and decorate the houses. Then he assembled his chamberlains and Amirs and Viziers and other officers of state and the Cadis of the city, and putting off the kingship, invested Budour therewith and clad her in the royal robes. Moreover, the Amirs and grandees went in to her and did her homage, nothing doubting but that she was a young man, and all who looked on her berayed their hose for the excess of her beauty and grace; then, after the lady Budour had been made Sultan and the drums had been beaten, in announcement of the joyful event, Armanous proceeded to equip his daughter for marriage, and in a few days, they brought Budour in to her, when they seemed as it were two moons risen at one time or two suns foregathering. So they entered the bridal-chamber and the doors were shut and the curtains let down upon them, after the attendants had lighted the candles and spread the bed for them. When Budour found herself alone with the princess Heyat en Nufous, she called to mind her beloved Kemerezzeman and grief was sore upon her. So she wept for his loss and absence and repeated the following verses:

O ye who went and left my heart to pine alone fore’er, No spark of life remains in me, since ye away did fare! I have an eye that doth complain of sleeplessness alway; Tears have consumed it; would to God that sleeplessness would spare!
When ye departed, after you the lover did abide; But question of him what of pain in absence he doth bear. But for the ceaseless flood of tears my eyes pour forth, the world Would at my burning all catch fire, yea, seas and lands and air.
To God Most High I make my moan of dear ones loved and lost, That on my passion have no ruth nor pity my despair. I never did them wrong, except my love for them were such; But into blest and curst in love men aye divided were.

When she had finished, she sat down beside the princess Heyat en Nufous and kissed her on the mouth. Then, rising abruptly, she made the ablution and betook herself to her devotions, nor did she leave praying till Heyat en Nufous was asleep, when she slipt into bed and lay with her back to her till morning; then rose and went out. Presently, the old king and queen came in to their daughter and asked her how she did, whereupon she told them what had passed and repeated to them the verses she had heard.

Meanwhile, Budour seated herself upon the throne and all the Amirs and captains and officers of state came in to her and wished her joy of the kingship, kissing the earth before her and calling down blessings upon her. She smiled on them and clad them in robes of honour, augmenting the fiefs of the Amirs and giving largesse to the troops; wherefore all the people loved her and offered up prayers for the continuance of her reign, doubting not but that she was a man. She sat all day in the hall of audience, ordering and forbidding and dispensing justice, releasing those who were in prison and remitting the customs dues, till nightfall, when she withdrew to the apartment prepared for her. Here she found Heyat en Nufous seated; so she sat down by her and clapping her on the back, caressed her and kissed her between the eyes, repeating the following verses:

The secret that I cherished my tears have public made; The wasting of my body my passion hath bewrayed. I hid my love and longing; but on the parting-day My plight, alas! revealed it to spies; ’twas open laid. O ye who have departed the camp, ye’ve left behind My body worn with languor and spirit all decayed.
Within my heart’s recesses ye have your dwelling-place; My tears are ever running and lids with blood berayed. For ever will I ransom the absent with my soul; Indeed, for them my yearnings are patent and displayed. I have an eye, whose pupil, for love of them, rejects Sleep and whose tears flow ever, unceasing and unstayed. My foes would have me patient for him; but God forbid That ever of my hearing should heed to them be paid! I baulked their expectation. Of Kemerezzeman Sometime I did accomplish the joys for which I prayed. He doth, as none before him, perfections all unite; No king of bygone ages was in the like arrayed.
His clemency and bounty Ben Zaideh’s[FN#45] largesse And Muawiyeh’s[FN#46] mildness have cast into the shade. But that it would be tedious and verse sufficeth not To picture forth his beauties, I’d leave no rhyme unmade.

Then she wiped away her tears and making the ablution, stood up to pray; nor did she give over praying, till drowsiness overcame Heyat en Nufous and she slept, whereupon Budour came and lay beside her till the morning. At daybreak, she arose and prayed the morning-prayer; then, going forth, seated herself on the throne and passed the day in ordering and forbidding and administering justice. Meanwhile, King Armanous went in to his daughter and asked her how she did; so she told him all that had passed and repeated to him the verses that Budour had recited, adding, ‘O my father, never saw I one more abounding in sense and modesty than my husband, save that he doth nothing but weep and sigh.’ ‘O my daughter,’ answered her father, ‘have patience with him yet this third night, and if he go not in to thee and do away thy maidenhead, we will take order with him and oust him from the throne and banish him the country.’ When the night came, the princess Budour rose from the throne and betaking herself to the bride-chamber, found the candles lighted and the princess Heyat en Nufous sitting awaiting her; whereupon she bethought her of her husband and recalling the early severance of their loves, wept and sighed and groaned groan upon groan, repeating the following verses:

I swear the tidings of my woes fills all the country-side, Like the sun shining on the hills of Nejed far and wide. His gesture speaks, but hard to tell the meaning of it is, And thus my yearning without end is ever magnified. I hate fair patience since the hour I fell in love with thee. Hast seen a lover hating love at any time or tide? One, in whose glances sickness lies, hath smitten me to death, For looks are deadliest of the things, wherein doth sickness bide.
He shook his clustered ringlets down and laid his chin-band by, And beauty thus in him, at once both black and white, I spied.
Sickness and cure are in his hands; for, to the sick of love, By him alone who caused their dole can healing be applied. The softness of his waist hath made his girdle mad for love And of his hips, for jealousy, to rise he is denied. His forehead, covered with his curls, is as a mirky night; Unveiled, ’tis as a shining moon that thrusts the dark aside.

When she had finished, she would have risen to pray, but Heyat en Nufous caught her by the skirt, saying, ‘O my lord, art thou not ashamed to neglect me thus, after all the favour my father hath done thee?’ When Budour heard this, she sat down again and said, ‘O my beloved, what is this thou sayest?’ ‘What I say,’ answered Heyat en Nufous, ‘is that I never saw any so self-satisfied as thou. Is every fair one so disdainful? I say not this to incline thee to me, but only of my fear for thee from King Armanous; for he purposes, an thou go not in to me to-night and do away my maidenhead, to strip thee of the kingship on the morrow and banish thee the realm; and belike his much anger may lead him to kill thee. But I, O my lord, have compassion on thee and give thee fair warning; and it is thine to decide.’ At this, Budour bowed her head in perplexity and said in herself, ‘If I refuse, I am lost, and if I obey, I am shamed. I am now queen of all the Ebony Islands and they are under my rule and I shall never again foregather with Kemerezzeman except it be in this place; for there is no way for him to his native land but through the Ebony Islands. Verily, I know not what to do, for I am no man that I should arise and open this virgin girl; but I commit my case to God, who orders all for the best.’ Then she said to Heyat en Nufous, ‘O my beloved, it is in my own despite that I have neglected thee and abstained from thee.’ And she discovered herself to her and told her her whole story, saying, ‘I conjure thee by Allah to keep my counsel, till God reunite me with my beloved Kemerezzeman, and then let what will happen.’ Her story moved Heyat en Nufous to wonder and pity, and she prayed God to reunite her with her beloved, saying, ‘Fear nothing, O my sister, but have patience till God accomplish that which is to be.’ And she repeated the following verses:

None keepeth counsel saving those who’re trusty and discreet. A secret’s ever safely placed with honest folk and leal; And secrets trusted unto me are in a locked-up house, Whose keys are lost and on whose door is set the Cadi’s seal.

‘O my sister,’ continued she, ‘the breasts of the noble are the graves of secrets, and I will not discover thine.’ Then they toyed and embraced and kissed and slept till near the call to morning-prayer, when Heyat en Nufous arose and slaughtering a young pigeon, besmeared herself and besprinkled her shift with its blood. Then she put off her trousers and cried out, whereupon her waiting-women hastened to her and raised cries of joy. Presently, her mother came in to her aad asked her how she did and tended her and abode with her till evening; whilst the lady Budour repaired to the bath and after washing herself, proceeded to the hall of audience, where she sat down on her throne and dispensed justice among the folk. When King Armanous heard the cries, he asked what was the matter and was informed of the consummation of his daughter’s marriage; whereat he rejoiced and his breast dilated and he made a great banquet.

To return to King Shehriman. When Kemerezzeman and Merzewan returned not at the appointed time, he passed the night without sleep, restless and consumed with anxiety. The night was long upon him and he thought the day would never dawn. He passed the forenoon of the ensuing day in expectation of his son’s coming, but he came not; whereat his heart forebode separation and he was distraught with fears for Kemerezzeman. He wept till his clothes were drenched, crying out, ‘Alas, my son!’ and repeating the following verses from an aching heart:

Unto the votaries of love I still was contrary, Till of its bitter and its sweet myself perforce must taste. I quaffed its cup of rigours out, yea, even to the dregs, And to its freemen and its slaves myself therein abased. Fortune aforetime made a vow to separate our loves; Now hath she kept her vow, alack! and made my life a waste.

Then he wiped away his tears and bade his troops make ready for a long journey. So they all mounted and set forth, headed by the Sultan, whose heart burnt with grief and anxiety for his son. He divided the troops into six bodies, whom he despatched in as many directions, giving them rendezvous for the morrow at the cross-roads. Accordingly they scoured the country diligently all that day and night, till at noon of the ensuing day they joined company at the cross-roads. Here four roads met and they knew not which the prince had followed, till they came to the torn clothes and found shreds of flesh and blood scattered by the way on all sides. When the King saw this, he cried out from his inmost heart, saying, ‘Alas, my son!’ and buffeted his face and tore his beard and rent his clothes, doubting not but his son was dead. Then he gave himself up to weeping and wailing, and the troops also wept for his weeping, being assured that the prince had perished. They wept and lamented and threw dust on their heads till they were nigh upon death, and the night surprised them whilst they were thus engaged. Then the King repeated the following verses, with a heart on fire for the torment of his despair:

Blame not the mourner for the grief to which he is a prey, For yearning sure sufficeth him, with all its drear dismay. He weeps for dreariment and grief and stress of longing pain, And eke his transport doth the fires, that rage in him, bewray. Alas, his fortune who’s Love’s slave, whom languishment hath bound Never to let his eyelids stint from weeping night and day!
He mourns the loss of one was like a bright and brilliant moon, That shone out over all his peers in glorious array. But Death did proffer to his lips a brimming cup to drink, What time he left his native land, and now he’s far away. He left his home and went from us unto calamity; Nor to his brethren was it given to him farewell to say. Indeed, his loss hath stricken me with anguish and with woe; Yea, for estrangement from his sight my wits are gone astray. Whenas the Lord of all vouchsafed to him His Paradise, Upon his journey forth he fared and passed from us for aye.

Then he returned with the troops to his capital, giving up his son for lost and deeming that wild beasts or highwaymen had set on him and torn him in pieces, and made proclamation that all in the Khalidan Islands should don black in mourning for him. Moreover, he built a pavilion in his memory, naming it House of Lamentations, and here he was wont to spend his days, (with the exception of Mondays and Thursdays, which he devoted to the business of the state), mourning for his son and bewailing him with verses, of which the following are some:

My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me, And that, whereon thou turn’st away, my day of death and fear. What though I tremble all the night and go in dread of death, Yet thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.

And again:

My soul redeem the absent, whose going cast a blight On hearts and did afflict them with anguish and affright! Let gladness then accomplish its purification-time,[FN#47] For, by a triple divorcement,[FN#48] I’ve put away delight.

Meanwhile, the princess Budour abode in the Ebony Islands, whilst the folk would point to her and say, ‘Yonder is King Armanous’s son-in-law;’ and every night she lay with Heyat en Nufous, to whom she made moan of her longing for her husband Kemerezzeman, weeping and describing to her his beauty and grace and yearning to enjoy him, though but in a dream. And bytimes she would repeat these verses:

God knows that, since my severance from thee, full sore I’ve wept, So sore that needs my eyes must run for very tears in debt.
“Have patience,” quoth my censurer, “and thou shalt win them yet,” And I, “O thou that blamest me, whence should I patience get?”

All this time, Kemerezzeman abode with the gardener, weeping and repeating verses night and day, bewailing the seasons of enjoyment and the nights of delight, whilst the gardener comforted him with the assurance that the ship would set sail for the land of the Muslims at the end of the year. One day, he saw the folk crowding together and wondered at this; but the gardener came in to him and said, ‘O my son, give over work for to-day neither water the trees; for it is a festival day, on which the folk visit one another. So rest and only keep thine eye on the garden, whilst I go look after the ship for thee; for yet but a little while and I send thee to the land of the Muslims.’ So saying, he went out, leaving Kemerezzeman alone in the garden, who fell to musing upon his condition, till his courage gave way and the tears streamed from his eyes. He wept till he swooned away, and when he recovered, he rose and walked about the garden pondering what fate had done with him and bewailing his long estrangement from those he loved. As he went thus, absorbed in melancholy thought, his foot stumbled and he fell on his face, striking his forehead against the stump of a tree. The blow cut it open and his blood ran down and blent with his tears. He rose and wiping away the blood, dried his tears and bound his forehead with a piece of rag; then continued his melancholy walk about the garden. Presently, he saw two birds quarrelling on a tree, and one of them smote the other on the neck with its beak and cut off its head, with which it flew away, whilst the slain bird’s body fell to the ground before Kemerezzeman. As it lay, two great birds flew down and alighting, one at the head and the other at the tail of the dead bird, drooped their wings over it and bowing their heads towards it, wept; and when Kemerezzeman saw them thus bewail their mate, he called to mind his wife and father and wept also. Then he saw them dig a grave and bury the dead bird; after which they flew away, but presently returned with the murderer and alighting on the grave, stamped on him till they killed him. Then they rent his belly and tearing out his entrails, poured the blood on the grave. Moreover, they stripped off his skin and tearing his flesh in pieces, scattered it hither and thither. All this while Kemerezzeman was watching them and wondering; but presently, chancing to look at the dead bird’s crop, he saw therein something gleaming. So he opened it and found the talisman that had been the cause of his separation from his wife. At this sight, he fell down in a swoon for joy; and when he revived, he said, ‘Praised be God! This is a good omen and a presage of reunion with my beloved.’ Then he examined the jewel and passed it over his eyes; after which he bound it to his arm, rejoicing in coming good, and walked about, awaiting the gardener’s return, till nightfall; when, as he came not, he lay down and slept in his wonted place. At daybreak he rose and girding himself with a cord of palm-fibre, took hoe and basket and went out to his work in the garden. Presently, he came to a carob-tree and struck the hoe into its roots. The blow resounded [as if it had fallen on metal]; so he cleared away the earth and discovered a trap-door of brass. He raised the trap and found a winding stair, which he descended and came to an ancient vault of the time of Aad and Themoud,[FN#49] hewn out of the rock. Round the vault stood many brazen vessels of the bigness of a great oil-jar, into one of which he put his hand and found it full of red and shining gold; whereupon he said to himself, ‘Verily, the days of weariness are past and joy and solace are come!’ Then he returned to the garden and replacing the trap-door, busied himself in tending the trees till nightfall, when the gardener came back and said to him, ‘O my son, rejoice in a speedy return to thy native land, for the merchants are ready for the voyage and in three days’ time the ship will set sail for the City of Ebony, which is the first of the cities of the Muslims; and thence thou must travel by land six months’ journey till thou come to the Islands of Khalidan, the dominions of King Shehriman.’ At this Kemerezzeman rejoiced and repeated the following verses:

Forsake not a lover unused aversion from thee, Nor punish the guiltless with rigour and cruelty.
Another, when absence was long, had forgotten thee And changed from his faith and his case; not so with me.

Then he kissed the gardener’s hand, saying, ‘O my father, even as thou hast brought me glad tidings, so I also have great good news for thee,’ and told him of his discovery in the garden; whereat the gardener rejoiced and said, ‘O my son, fourscore years have I dwelt in this garden and have never chanced on aught; whilst thou, who hast not sojourned with me a year, hast discovered this thing; wherefore it is God’s gift to thee, for the cesser of thine ill fortune, and will aid thee to rejoin thy folk and foregather with her thou lovest.’ ‘Not so,’ answered Kemerezzeman, ‘it must be shared between us.’ Then he carried him to the underground chamber and showed him the gold, which was in twenty jars. So he took ten and the gardener ten, and the latter said to him, ‘O my son, fill thyself jars with the olives that grow in the garden, for they are not found but in our land and are sought after; the merchants carry them to all parts and they are called Asafiri[FN#50] olives. Lay the gold in the jars and cover it with olives: then stop them and cover them and take them with thee in the ship.’ So Kemerezzeman took fifty jars and laying in each somewhat of the gold, filled it up with olives. At the bottom of one of the jars he laid the talisman, then stopped and covered the jars and sat down to talk with the gardener, making sure of speedy reunion with his own people and saying in himself, ‘When I come to the Ebony Islands, I will journey thence to my father’s country and enquire for my beloved Budour. I wonder whether she turned back to her own land or journeyed on to my father’s country or whether there befell her any accident by the way.’ And he repeated the following verses:

Love in my breast they lit and passed away forthright: Far distant is the land that holds my soul’s delight. Far, far from me the camp and those that dwell therein; No visitation-place again shall us unite. Patience and reason fled from me, when they fared forth; Sleep failed me and despair o’ercame me, like a blight. They left me, and with them departed all my joy; Tranquillity and peace with them have taken flight.
They made mine eyes run down with tears of love laid waste; My lids for lack of them brim over day and night. Whenas my sad soul longs to see them once again And waiting and desire are heavy on my spright,
Midmost my heart of hearts their images I trace, Love and desireful pain and yearning for their sight.

Then he told the gardener what he had seen pass between the birds, whereat he wondered; and they both lay down and slept till the morning. The gardener awoke sick and abode thus two days; but on the third day, his sickness increased on him, till they despaired of his life and Kemerezzeman grieved sore for him. Meanwhile, the captain and sailors came and enquired for the gardener. Kemerezzeman told them that he was sick, and they said, ‘Where is the young man that is minded to go with us to the Ebony Islands?’ ‘He is your servant,’ answered the prince and bade them carry the jars of olives to the ship. So they transported them to the ship, saying, ‘Make haste, for the wind is fair;’ and he answered, ‘I hear and obey.’ Then he carried his victual on board and returning, to bid the gardener farewell, found him in the agonies of death. So he sat down at his head and closed his eyes, and his soul departed his body; whereupon he laid him out and committed him to the earth to the mercy of God the Most High. Then he went down to the port, to embark, but found that the ship had already weighed anchor and set sail; nor did she cease to cleave the waters, till she disappeared from his sight. So he returned to the garden, sorrowful and heavy-hearted, and sitting down, threw dust on his head and buffeted his face. Then he rented the garden of its owner and hired a man to help him tend the trees. Moreover, he went down to the underground chamber and bringing up the rest of the gold, stowed it in other fifty jars, which he filled up with olives. Then he enquired of the ship and was told that it sailed but once a year; at which his affliction redoubled and he mourned sore for that which had befallen him, above all for the loss of the princess Budour’s talisman, and spent his nights and days weeping and repeating verses.

Meanwhile, the ship sailed with a favouring wind, till it reached the Ebony Islands. As fate would have it, the princess Budour was sitting at a window overlooking the sea and saw the ship cast anchor in the port. At this sight, her heart throbbed and she mounted and riding down to the port, with her officers, halted by the ship, whilst the sailors broke out the cargo and transported the goods to the storehouses; after which she called the captain and asked what he had with him. ‘O King,’ answered he, ‘I have with me drugs and cosmetics and powders and ointments and plasters and rich stuffs and Yemen rugs and other costly merchandise, not to be borne of mule or camel, and all manner essences and spices and perfumes, civet and ambergris and camphor and Sumatra aloes-wood, and tamarinds and Asafiri olives to boot, such as are rare to find in this country.’ When she heard talk of Asafiri olives, her heart yearned for them and she said to the captain, ‘How much olives hast thou?’ ‘Fifty jars full,’ answered he. ‘Their owner is not with us, but the King shall take what he will of them.’ Quoth she, ‘Bring them ashore, that I may see them.’ So he called to the sailors, who brought her the fifty jars; and she opened one and looking at the olives, said to the captain, ‘I will take the whole fifty and pay you their value, whatever it may be.’ ‘By Allah, O my lord,’ answered he, ‘they have no value in our country and the fifty jars may be worth some hundred dirhems; but their owner tarried behind us, and he is a poor man.’ ‘And what are they worth here?’ asked she. ‘A thousand dirhems,’ replied he. ‘I will take them at that price,’ quoth she and bade carry the fifty jars to the palace. When it was night, she called for a jar of olives and opened it, there being none present but herself and the princess Heyat en Nufous. Then, taking a dish, she turned into it the contents of the jar, when behold there fell out into the dish with the olives a heap of red gold and she said to Heyat en Nufous, ‘This is nought but gold!’ So she sent for the rest of