One thousand and one nig.., p.413
One Thousand and One Nights, page 413
Spare me your blame, for sickness’ pains enough on me are keen, And hold excused the Cadi who doth judge the folk between.
Let him who blameth me for love excuse me and not blame, For still unblameworthy the slain of passion are, I ween.
Cadi was I and fortune fair raised me to high estate, By script and pen, and life to me was pleasant and serene,
Till from a girl’s looks, who to shed my blood came, with a shaft I was transfixed, whose deadly stroke no leach might countervene.
A Muslim maid, she came to me, complaining of unright; Her mouth with teeth like strings of pearls unvalued was beseen.
Under her veil I looked and she a full moon straight displayed That through the middle dark of night breaks out in all its sheen.
A lustrous visage, sugared lips and smiling, wonder-sweet, Beauty indeed enveloped her from head to foot, my queen.
‘Midst Arabs and barbarians, by Allah, to mine eyes, To see the like of her fair face hath ne’er vouchsafed been!
Sweet, what didst promise me and saidst, ‘O Cadi of the folk, Whenas I promise, I perform, and what I say I mean.’
This is my case and that wherewith I have afflicted been; So question me no more, good folk, of this my dole and teen.
Then he wept sore and gave one sob and his soul departed his body. When they saw this, they washed him and shrouded him and prayed over him and buried him, graving the following verses on his tomb:
The traits of lovers were fulfilled in him who comes, by her He loved and by her rigours slain, unto the sepulchre.
Cadi above the folk was he and him it did rejoice The sword of justice in its sheath to keep a prisoner.
But Fate against him did decree, nor e’er before his time Saw we the lord unto his slave abase him and defer.
Then they committed him to the mercy of God and went away to the second Cadi, in company with the physician, but found in him no hurt or ailment requiring a leach. So they questioned him of his case and he told them what ailed him, whereupon they blamed him and chid him for his folly, and he answered them with these verses:
I’m cursed with her, — my like was blameless aye — and dead I’m shotten with a shaft from hand of archer sped.
A woman unto me there came, Huboub by name, Complaining of unright and Fortune’s drearihead;
And with her came a girl, who showed a face that passed The full moon’s light athwart the middle darkness spread.
Her beauties she displayed and her complaint preferred What while in floods there ran the tears her eyelids shed.
I hearkened to her speech and looked upon her face And sore she made me pine with smiling lips and red.
Then with my heart away she fared and left me here, The hostage of desire. Ah, whither hath she fled?
This then is all my case; have ruth upon my plight And take my servant here to Cadi in my stead.
Then he gave one sob and his soul departed his body; whereupon they buried him and commending him to the mercy of God, repaired to the third Cadi and the fourth, and there befell them the like of what befell their brethren. Moreover, they found the assessors also sick for love of her, and indeed all who saw her died of her love, or, if they died not, lived, afflicted with the agonies of passion [in vain], may God have mercy on them all!
Meanwhile Zein el Mewasif and her women fared on with all diligence till they came to a convent by the way, in which dwelt a prior called Danis and forty monks. When the prior saw her beauty, he went out to her and invited her to alight, saying, ‘Rest with us ten days and after go your ways.’ So she and her damsels alighted and entered the convent; and when Danis saw her beauty and grace, she debauched his faith and he was seduced by her: wherefore he fell to sending her love-messages by the monks, one after another, till he had sent all the forty; but each who saw her fell in love with her and plied her with blandishments galore and sought her favours for himself, without naming Danis, whilst she denied herself to them and rebuffed them all with harsh answers.
When Danis’s patience was at an end and his passion was sore on him, he said in himself, ‘Verily, the proverb says, “Nothing scratches my body but my own nail and nought runs my errands like my own feet.”’ So he rose and made ready rich meats, and it was the ninth day of her sojourn in the convent. Then he carried them in to her and set them before her, saying, ‘In the name of God, favour us [by partaking] of the best of the food at our command.’ So she put out her hand, saying, ‘In the name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful!’ and ate, she and her maidens. When she had made an end of eating, he said to her, ‘O my lady, I wish to recite to you some verses.’ ‘Say on,’ quoth she; and he recited the following:
Thou hast made conquest of my heart by dint of cheek and eye; In love of thee my prose and verse with one another vie.
Wilt thou forsake a lover sick with passion and desire? E’en in my dreams ‘gainst love I strive, with many a tear and sigh.
With my delights, I have th’ affairs of this my convent left: Leave me not prostrate, love-distraught, to languish and to die.
O lovely one, that holdest right the shedding of my blood In love, have pity on my case, give ear unto my cry.
When she heard this, she answered him with these verses:
O thou that seek’st of me delight, let not vain hope thy wit Delude; of thy soliciting I prithee hold me quit.
Let not thy spirit covet that which it may not possess: Disquietude with covetise was ever straitly knit.
Thereupon he returned to his place, pondering in himself and knowing not how he should do in her affair, and passed the night in very sorry case. But, as soon as it was dark night, Zein el Mewasif arose and said to her maids, ‘Come, [let us depart hence], for we cannot avail against forty men, monks, each of whom requireth me of himself.’ ‘Willingly,’ answered they. So they mounted their beasts and issuing forth of the convent gate, under favour of the night, rode on till they overtook a caravan, with which they mingled and found it came from the city of Aden. Presently, Zein el Mewasif heard the people of the caravan discoursing of her own case and telling how the Cadis and assessors were dead of love for her and how the townsfolk had appointed others in their stead and released her husband from prison. Whereupon she turned to her maids and said to them, ‘Heard ye that?’ And Huboub answered, ‘If the monks were ravished with love of thee, whose belief it is that to abstain from women is to do God worship, how should it be with the Cadis, who hold that there is no monkery in Islam? But let us make our way to our own country, whilst our affair is yet undiscovered.’ So they journeyed on with all diligence.
On the morrow, as soon as it was day, the monks repaired to Zein el Mewasif’s lodging to salute her, but found the place empty, and their hearts sank within them. So the first monk rent his clothes and recited these verses:
Give ear, companions dear, to that I shall to you impart; For I must say farewell to you full shortly and depart.
The pangs of passion and desire within mine entrails rage And eke a slayer from the flame of love is in my heart,
By reason of a lovely maid, who came into our land: The full moon in the height of heaven is as her counterpart.
She went and left me by her charms cast down and done to death, Slain of a shaft that from her lids death-dealing she did dart.
Then another monk recited the following verses:
O ye that with my soul have fled, on your unhappy swain Have pity and to his despair your blest returning deign.
They fared away and my repose departed after them; But still the sweetness of their speech doth in mine ears remain.
They’re distant, yea, and distant is their visitation-place: Would they’d vouchsafe, though but in dreams, their sight to us again!
When they departed hence, they took my heart with them and left Me all dissolved in floods of tears, that from mine eyes did rain.
A third monk followed with these lines:
Heart, eyes and ears to set thee in the highest room agree; For, lo, my heart and all of me’s a dwelling-place for thee.
Sweeter than honey in my mouth thy name is and thy thought Runs, as the vital spirit runs, in every rib of me.
Lean as a skewer hast thou made my frame for languishment; Yea, and thou’st drowned me with my tears in very passion’s sea.
Let me but look on thee in sleep; mayhap thy lovely sight Shall from the torment of my tears avail my cheeks to free.
Then a fourth recited the following verses:
Dumb is my tongue for sorrow; my speech of thee doth fail; Of passion comes my anguish, my sickness and my bale.
O thou full moon, whose place is in heaven, sore for thee Love-longing and distraction my spirit do assail.
And a fifth these:
I love a moon, shapely and slim and well-grown; Her waist of the weight of her buttocks makes moan.
Like the first pressed-out wine are the dews of her mouth And her lips to mankind for distraction are known.
My heart burns with passion; the lover lies slain, Midst the dark, whence the moon and its lustre are flown,
And his tears like the rains flow, nor ever run dry, For a cheek that is red as cornelian-stone.
And a sixth these:
Thou, whose exceeding rigour hath slain me for desire, O cassia-branch, whose planet mounts ever high and higher,
To thee of my affliction, my passion, I complain, O thou whose cheeks consume me with roses red as fire!
Is there his like for lover, who damns his soul for thee, Prayers and prostrations leaving, for all he is a friar?
And a seventh these:
My heart she prisoned and the tears from out mine eyes set free, My patience rent and love-longing she fortified in me.
Sweet are her attributes, but, ah, how sour her rigour is! The hearts of all, who light on her, with arrows shooteth she.
O thou who blamest me, desist; repent thee for the past; For, in the case of passion, thou mayst not believéd be.
And on like wise all the rest of the monks repeated verses and wept. As for Danis, lamentation and weeping redoubled on him, for that he found no way to her enjoyment, and he chanted the following verses:
My patience failed me, when my loves took leave and fared away, When they, my wish and my desire, forsook me, sooth to say.
Soft with their camels, O thou guide o’ the litters! Haply yet They to my dwelling to return may deign some blessed day.
Slumber forsook my lids the day we parted; my delight Departed with them and my woes waxed on me for dismay.
To God I make my moan of that I suffer for her love; My body’s wasted sore and she hath caused my strength decay.
Then, despairing of her, they took counsel together and agreed to fashion her image [and set it up] with them, and applied themselves to this till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies.
Meanwhile, Zein el Mewasif fared on, without ceasing, till she reached her own house and opened the doors. Then she entered and sent to her sister Nesim, who rejoiced exceedingly at the news of her return and brought her the furniture and precious stuffs [she had left in her charge]. So she furnished the house and hung up the curtains over the doors and burnt aloes-wood and musk and ambergris and other perfumes, till the whole house reeked with the most delightful fragrance: after which she donned her finest clothes and ornaments and sat talking with her maids, whom she had left behind, and relating to them all that had befallen her. Then she turned to Huboub and giving her money, bade her fetch them something to eat. So she brought meat and drink and when they had made an end of eating and drinking, Zein el Mewasif bade Huboub go and see where Mesrour was and how it fared with him.
Now Mesrour knew not of her return, but abode in sore concern and sorrow that might not be overpast; no peace remained to him nor was patience possible to him. Whenas love and passion and yearning and distraction waxed on him, he would solace himself by reciting verses and go to the house and kiss its walls. It chanced that he went out that day to the place where he had parted from his mistress and repeated the following verses:
That which for thee I suffer I would have hid; but, nay, ’Twould out, and sleep for waking mine eyes have bartered aye.
Since that wanhope doth canker my heart both night and day, I cry aloud, ‘O Fortune, hold back thy hand, I pray,
For lo, my soul is straitened ‘twixt peril and dismay.
If but the Lord of passion were just, indeed, to me, Sure slumber from mine eyelids he had not bidden flee.
Have ruth upon a lover, who languishes for thee, The great one of people, cast down by Love’s decree,
The rich, whom love hath beggared and brought him to decay.
The censors still revile thee; I heed them not, not I, But stop mine ears against them and give them back the lie.
Still will I keep my troth-plight with her I love. They cry, ‘Thou lovest one departed and gone;’ and I reply,
‘Enough; when Fate descendeth, the sight is blinded aye.’
Then he returned to his lodging and sat there weeping, till sleep overcame him, when he saw in a dream as if Zein el Mewasif were come to the house, and awoke, weeping. So he set off to go thither, repeating the following verses:
How shall I be consoled for her whose am I, every jot, When all my heart’s aglow with flames than coals of fire more hot?
To Allah of the shifts of Fate, the nights’ vicissitudes And of her absence I complain, whom well I love, God wot.
When shall we meet, O term of heart’s desire? O full-moon face, When shall the favouring Fates to me reunion allot?
As he made an end of his recitation, he found himself in Zein el Mewasif’s street and smelt the sweet savour of the perfumes with which she had incensed the house; wherefore his heart fluttered and was like to leave his breast and desire flamed up in him and distraction redoubled upon him, when, behold, up came Huboub, on her way to do her mistress’s errand. When she saw him, she went up to him and saluting him, gave him the glad news of her mistress’s return, saying, ‘She hath sent me to bid thee to her.’ Whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and she took him and returned with him to the house.
When Zein el Mewasif saw him, she came down to him from the couch and kissed him and embraced him and he her; nor did they leave kissing and embracing till they swooned away for stress of love and separation. They lay a long while senseless, and when they revived, Zein el Mewasif bade Huboub fetch her a gugglet of sherbet of sugar and another of sherbet of lemons. So she brought what she desired and they sat eating and drinking till nightfall, when they fell to recalling all that had befallen them, first and last. Then she acquainted him with her conversion to Islam, whereat he rejoiced and became a Muslim. On like wise did her women, and they all repented to God the Most High [of their infidelity]. On the morrow she sent for the Cadi and the witnesses and told them that she was a widow and had completed the period of purification and was minded to marry Mesrour. So they drew up the marriage-contract between them and they abode in all delight of life.
Meanwhile, the Jew, when the people of Aden released him from prison, set out homeward and fared on, without stopping, till he came within three days’ journey of the city, when Zein el Mewasif heard of his coming and calling Huboub, said to her, ‘Go to the Jews’ burial-place and there dig a grave and plant on it sweet basil and jessamine and sprinkle water thereabout. If the Jew come and ask thee of me, answer, “My mistress died twenty days ago of chagrin on thine account.” If he say, “Show me her tomb,” take him to the [mock] grave and weep over it and make moan and lament before him.’ And Huboub answered, ‘I hear and obey.’ Then they laid up the furniture in the store-closets, and Zein el Mewasif removed to Mesrour’s lodging, where he and she abode eating and drinking, till the three days were past; at the end of which time the Jew arrived and knocked at the door of his house. Quoth Huboub, ‘Who is at the door?’ And he answered, ‘Thy master.’ So she opened to him and he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks and said to her, ‘What ails thee to weep and where is thy mistress?’ Quoth she, ‘My mistress is dead of chagrin on thine account.’ When he heard this, he wept sore and was confounded and said, ‘O Huboub, where is her tomb?’ So she carried him to the Jews’ burial-ground and showed him the grave she had dug; and he wept sore and recited the following verses:
Two things there are, for which if eyes wept tear on tear Of blood, till they were like, indeed, to disappear,
They never could fulfil the tithe of all their due; And these are prime of youth and loss of lovelings dear.
Then he wept again and recited these also:
Alas my grief! My fortitude bewrays me for my fair: Since she I love is gone, I die of misery and despair.
Woe’s me for my beloved’s loss! How sore it is on me! And O the rending of my heart for that I did whilere!
Would I my secret in my time had not revealed and eke The passion in my heart that seethed had still kept hidden there!
I was in all delight of life and solace; now she’s gone, To misery and abjectness, alack! I’m vowed fore’er.
Huboub, thou stirred me to lament with tidings of her death Who of all creatures was my stay and solace against care.
Zein el Mewasif, would to God that severance had not been! Would he, through whom my soul forsook my body, had been ne’er!
I do repent me of the breach of vows and blame myself For my neglect of her on whom my hopes still builded were.
When he had made an end of saying this, he wept and groaned and lamented till he fell down in a swoon, whereupon Huboub made haste to drag him to the grave and throw him in, whilst he was yet insensible. Then she stopped up the grave on him and returning to her mistress, told her what had passed, whereat she rejoiced with an exceeding joy and recited the following verses:
