Meanwhile, the horse gave not over soaring with the prince, till he drew near the sun, whereat he gave himself up for lost and was confounded at his case, repenting him of having mounted the horse and saying in himself, 'Verily, this was a plot of the sage to destroy me; but there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! I am lost without recourse; but, I wonder, did not he who made the peg of ascent make a peg of descent also?' Now he was a man of wit and intelligence; so he fell to examining all the parts of the horse, but saw nothing save a peg, like a cock's head, on its right shoulder and the like on the left, and turned the right-hand peg, whereupon the horse flew upward with increased speed. So he left it and turned the left-hand peg, and immediately the steed's upward motion ceased and he began to descend, little by little, towards the earth. When the prince saw this and knew the uses of the horse, he was filled with joy and gladness and thanked God the Most High for that He had vouchsafed to deliver him from destruction. Then he began to turn the horse's head whither he would, making him rise and fall at pleasure, till he had gotten complete command of his movement.

He ceased not to descend the whole of that day, for that the steed's upward flight had borne him afar from the earth; and as he descended, he diverted himself with viewing the various towns and countries over which he passed and which he knew not, having never seen them in his life. Amongst the rest, he saw a city of the goodliest ordinance, in the midst of a green and smiling country, abounding in trees and streams; whereat he fell a-musing and said in himself, 'Would I knew the name of yonder city and in what country it is!' And he began to circle about it and observe it right and left. By this time, the day began to wane and the sun drew near to its setting; and he said, 'I see no goodlier place to pass the night in than this city; so I will lodge here this night and on the morrow I will return to my people and my kingdom and tell my father and family what has passed and what I have seen with my eyes.' Then he addressed himself to look for a place, where he might safely bestow himself and his horse and where none should see him, and presently espied a palace, surrounded by a great wall with lofty battlements, rising high into the air from the midst of the city and guarded by forty black slaves, clad in complete mail and armed with spears and swords and bows and arrows. Quoth he, 'This is a goodly place,' and turned the peg of descent, whereupon the horse sank down with him and alighted gently on the roof of the palace. So the prince dismounted and began to go round about the horse and examine it, saying, 'By Allah, he who fashioned thee was a cunning craftsman, and if God extend the term of my life and restore me to my country and family in safety and reunite me with my father, I will assuredly bestow upon him all manner of bounties and entreat him with the utmost favour.'

By this time the night had overtaken him and he sat on the roof, till he was assured that all in the palace slept; and indeed hunger and thirst were sore upon him, for that he had not tasted food since he parted from his father. So he said in himself, 'Surely, the like of this palace will not lack of victual,' and leaving the horse there, went in quest of somewhat to eat. Presently, he came to a stair and descending it, found himself in a court paved with white marble and alabaster, that shone in the light of the moon. He marvelled at the place and the goodliness of its fashion, but heard no sound and saw no living soul and stood in perplexity, looking right and left and knowing not whither he should go. Then said he to himself, 'I cannot do better than return to where I left my horse and pass the night by it; and as soon as it is day, I will mount and depart.' However, as he stood talking to himself, he espied a light within the palace, and making towards it, found that it came from a candle that stood before a door of the palace, at the head of an eunuch, as he were one of the Afrits of Solomon or a tribesman of the Jinn, longer than a plank and wider than a bench. He lay asleep before the door, with the pommel of his sword gleaming in the flame of the candle, and at his head was a budget of leather[FN#72] hanging from a column of granite.

When the prince saw this, he was affrighted and said, 'I crave help from God the Supreme! O my God, even as Thou hast [already] delivered me from destruction, vouchsafe me strength to quit myself of the adventure of this palace!' So saying, he put out his hand to the budget and taking it, carried it to a place apart and opened it and found in it food of the best. So he ate his fill and refreshed himself and drank water, after which he hung the budget up in its place and drawing the eunuch's sword from its sheath, took it, whilst the latter slept on, knowing not whence destiny should come to him. Then the prince fared on into the palace, till he came to another door, with a curtain drawn before it; so he raised the curtain and entering, saw a couch of ivory, inlaid with pearls and jacinths and jewels, and four slave-girls sleeping about it. He went up to the couch, to see what was therein, and found a young lady lying asleep, veiled with her hair, as she were the full moon at its rising, with flower-white forehead and shining parting and cheeks like blood-red anemones and dainty moles thereon.

When he saw this, he was amazed at her beauty and grace and symmetry and recked no more of death. So he went up to her, trembling in every nerve, and kissed her on the right cheek; whereupon she awoke forthright and seeing the prince standing at her head, said to him, 'Who art thou and whence comest thou?' Quoth he, 'I am thy slave and thy lover.' 'And who brought thee hither?' asked she. 'My Lord and my fortune,' answered he; and she said, 'Belike thou art he who demanded me yesterday of my father in marriage and he rejected thee, pretending that thou wast foul of favour. By Allah he lied, when he spoke this thing, for thou art not other than handsome.'

Now the son of the King of Hind[FN#73] had sought her in marriage, but her father had rejected him, for that he was ill- favoured, and she thought the prince was he. So, when she saw his beauty and grace, for indeed he was like the radiant moon, her heart was taken in the snare of his love, as it were a flaming fire, and they fell to talk and converse. Presently, her waiting-women awoke from their sleep and seeing the prince sitting with their mistress, said to her, 'O my lady, who is this with thee?' Quoth she, 'I know not; I found him sitting by me, when I awoke. Belike it is he who seeks me in marriage of my father.' 'O my lady,' answered they, 'by the Most Great God, this is not he who seeks thee in marriage, for he is foul and this man is fair and of high condition. Indeed, the other is not fit to be his servant.'

Then they went out to the eunuch and finding him asleep, awoke him, and he started up in alarm. Quoth they, 'How comes it that thou art guardian of the palace and yet men come in to us, whilst we are asleep?' When the eunuch heard this, he sprang in haste to his sword, but found it not, and fear took him and trembling. Then he went in, confounded, to his mistress and seeing the prince sitting talking with her, said to the former, 'O my lord, art thou a man or a genie?' 'O it on thee, O unluckiest of slaves!' replied the prince. 'How darest thou even a prince of the sons of the Chosroes with one of the unbelieving Satans?' Then he took the sword in his hand and said, 'I am the King's son-in-law, and he hath married me to his daughter and bidden me go in to her.' 'O my lord,' replied the eunuch, 'if thou be indeed a man, as thou avouchest, she is fit for none but thee, and thou art worthier of her than any other.'

Then he ran to the King, shrieking out and rending his clothes and casting dust upon his head; and when the King heard his outcry, he said to him, 'What has befallen thee? Speak quickly and be brief; for thou troublest my heart.' 'O King,' answered the eunuch, 'come to thy daughter's succour; for a devil of the Jinn, in the likeness of a king's son, hath gotten possession of her; so up and at him!' When the King heard this, he thought to kill him and said, 'How camest thou to be careless of my daughter and let this demon come at her?' Then he betook himself to the princess's palace, where he found her women standing, [awaiting him] and said to them, 'What is come to my daughter?' 'O King,' answered they, 'sleep overcame us and when we awoke, we found a young man sitting talking with her, as he were the full moon, never saw we a fairer of favour than he. So we questioned him of his case and he avouched that thou hadst given him thy daughter in marriage. More than this we know not, nor do we know if he be a man or a genie; but he is modest and well bred, and doth nothing unseemly.'

When the King heard this, his wrath cooled and he raised the curtain stealthily and looking in, saw a prince of the goodliest fashion, with a face like the shining full moon, sitting talking with his daughter. At this sight he could not contain himself, of his jealousy for his daughter, and putting the curtain aside, rushed in upon them, like a Ghoul, with his drawn sword in his hand. When the prince saw him, he said to the princess, 'Is this thy father?' 'Yes,' answered she; whereupon he sprang to his feet and taking his sword in his hand, cried out at the King with such a terrible cry, that he was confounded. Then he would have fallen on him with the sword; but the King, seeing that the prince was doughtier than he, sheathed his blade and stood till the latter came up to him, when he accosted him courteously and said to him, 'O youth, art thou a man or a genie?' Quoth the prince, 'Did I not respect thy right[FN#74] and thy daughter's honour, I would spill thy blood! How darest thou even me with devils, me that am a prince of the sons of the Chosroes, who, had they a mind to take thy kingdom, could shake thee from thy power and thy dominion and despoil thee of all thy possessions?' When the King heard his words, he was smitten with awe and fear of him and rejoined, 'If thou indeed be of the sons of the kings, as thou pretendest, how comes it that thou enterest my palace, without my leave, and soilest my honour, making thy way to my daughter and feigning that thou art her husband and that I have given her to thee to wife, I that have slain kings and kings' sons, who sought her of me in marriage? And now who shall save thee from my mischief, when, if I cried out to my slaves and servants and bade them put thee to death, they would slay thee forthright? Who then shall deliver thee out of my hand?'

When the prince heard this speech of the King, he answered, 'Verily, I wonder at thee and at the poverty of thy wit! Canst thou covet for thy daughter a goodlier mate than myself and hast ever seen a stouter of heart or a more sufficient or a more glorious in rank and dominion than I?' 'Nay, by Allah,' rejoined the King. 'But, O youth, I would have had thee make suit to me for her hand before witnesses, that I might marry her to thee publicly; and now, were I to marry her to thee privily, yet hast thou dishonoured me in her person.' 'Thou sayst well, O King,' replied the prince; 'but, if thy servants and soldiers should fall upon me and slay me, as thou pretendest, thou wouldst but publish thine own dishonour, and the folk would be divided between belief and disbelief with regard to thee. Wherefore, meseems thou wilt do well to turn from this thought to that which I shall counsel thee.' Quoth the King, 'Let me hear what thou hast to propose.' And the prince said, 'What I have to propose to thee is this: either do thou meet me in single combat and he who slays the other shall be held the worthier and having a better title to the kingdom; or else, let me be this night and on the morrow draw out against me thy horsemen and footmen and servants; but [first] tell me their number.' Quoth the King, 'They are forty thousand horse, besides my own slaves and their followers, who are the like of them in number.' 'When the day breaks, then,' continued the prince, 'do thou array them against me and say to them, "This fellow is a suitor to me for my daughter's hand, on condition that he shall do battle single-handed against you all; for he pretends that he will overcome you and put you to the rout and that ye cannot prevail against him." Then leave me to do battle with them. If they kill me, then is thy secret the safelier hidden and thine honour the better guarded; and if I overcome them, then is the like of me one whose alliance a King should covet.'

The King approved of his counsel and accepted his proposition, despite his awe and amaze at the exorbitant pretension of the prince to do battle against his whole army, such as he had described it to him, being at heart assured that he would perish in the mellay and so he be quit of him and freed from the fear of dishonour. So he called the eunuch and bade him go forthright to his Vizier and bid him assemble the whole of the troops and cause them don their arms and mount their horses. The eunuch carried the King's order to the Vizier, who straightway summoned the captains of the army and the grandees of the realm and bade them don their harness of war and mount their horses and sally forth in battle array.

Meanwhile, the King sat conversing with the prince, being pleased with his wit and good breeding, till daybreak, when he returned to his palace and seating himself on his throne, commanded the troops to mount and bade saddle one of the best of the royal horses with handsome housings and trappings and bring it to the prince. But the latter said, 'O King, I will not mount, till I come in sight of the troops and see them.' 'Be it as thou wilt,' answered the King. Then they repaired to the tilting ground, where the troops were drawn up, and the prince looked upon them and noted their great number; after which the King cried out to them, saying, 'Ho, all ye men, there is come to me a youth who seeks my daughter in marriage, —never have I seen a goodlier than he, no, nor a stouter of heart nor a doughtier, for he pretends that he can overcome you, single-handed, and put you to the rout and that, were ye a hundred thousand in number, yet would ye be for him but little. But, when he charges upon you, do ye receive him upon the points of your lances and the edges of your sabres; for, indeed, he hath undertaken a grave matter.'

Then said he to the prince, 'Up, O my son, and do thy will on them.' 'O King,' answered he, 'thou dealest not fairly with me. How shall I go forth against them, seeing that I am afoot and they are mounted?' 'I bade thee mount, and thou refusedst,' rejoined the King; 'but take which of my horses thou wilt.' But he said, 'None of thy horses pleases me, and I will ride none but that on which I came.' 'And where is thy horse?' asked the King. 'Atop of thy palace,' answered the prince, and the King said, 'In what part of my palace?' 'On the roof,' replied the prince. 'Out on thee!' quoth the King. 'This is the first sign thou hast given of madness. How can the horse be on the roof? But we shall soon see if thou speak truth or falsehood.' Then he turned to one of his chief officers and said to him, 'Go to my palace and bring me what thou findest on the roof.' And all the people marvelled at the prince's words, saying, 'How can a horse come down the steps from the roof? Verily this is a thing whose like we never heard.'

Meanwhile, the King's messenger repaired to the palace, accompanied by other of the royal officers, and mounting to the roof, found the horse standing there,—never had they looked on a handsomer; but when they drew near and examined it, they saw that it was made of ebony and ivory; whereat they laughed to each other, saying, 'Was it of the like of this horse that the youth spoke? Surely, he must be mad; but we shall soon see the truth of his case. Belike, there hangs some great mystery by him.' Then they lifted up the horse and carrying it to the King, set it down before him, and all the people flocked round it, staring at it and marvelling at the beauty of its fashion and the richness of its saddle and bridle. The King also admired it and wondered at it extremely; and he said to the prince, 'O youth, is this thy horse?' 'Yes, O King,' answered the prince; 'this is my horse, and thou shalt soon see wonders of it.' 'Then take and mount it,' rejoined the King, and the prince said, 'I will not mount till the troops withdraw afar from it.' So the King bade them withdraw a bowshot from the horse; whereupon quoth the prince, 'O King, I am about to mount my horse and charge upon thy troops and scatter them right and left and cleave their hearts in sunder.' 'Do as thou wilt,' answered the King; 'and spare them not, for they will not spare thee.' Then the prince mounted, whilst the troops ranged themselves in ranks before him, and one said to another, 'When the youth comes between the ranks, we will take him on the points of our pikes and the edges of our swords.' 'By Allah,' quoth another, 'it were pity to kill so handsome and well-shaped a youth!' 'By Allah,' rejoined a third, 'ye will have hard work to get the better of him; for he had not done this, but for what he knew of his own prowess and valiantise.'

Meanwhile, the prince, having settled himself in his saddle, whilst all eyes were strained to see what he would do, turned the peg of ascent; whereupon the horse began to sway to and fro and make the strangest of movements, after the manner of horses, till its belly was filled with air and it took flight with him and soared into the sky. When the King saw this, he cried out to his men, saying, 'Out on you! Take him, ere he escape you!' But his Viziers and officers said to him, 'O King, how shall we overtake the flying bird? This is surely none but some mighty enchanter, and God hath saved thee from him. So praise thou the Most High for thy deliverance from his hand.' Then the King returned to his palace and going in to his daughter, acquainted her with what had befallen. He found her sore afflicted for the prince and bewailing her separation from him; wherefore she fell grievously sick and took to her pillow. When her father saw her thus, he pressed her to his bosom and kissing her between the eyes, said to her, 'O my daughter, praise God and thank Him for that He hath delivered thee from this crafty enchanter!' And he repeated to her the story of the prince's disappearance; but she paid no heed to his word and did but redouble in her tears and lamentations, saying to herself, 'By Allah, I will neither eat nor drink, till God reunite me with him!' Her father was greatly concerned for her plight and mourned sore over her; but, for all he could do to comfort her, passion and love-longing still grew on her for the prince.

Meanwhile, the King's son, whenas he had risen into the air, turned his horse's head towards his native land, musing upon the beauty and grace of the princess. Now he had enquired of the King's people the name of the princess and of the King her father and of the city, which was the city of Senaa of Yemen. So he journeyed homeward with all speed, till he drew near his father's capital and making a circuit about the city, alighted on the roof of the King's palace, where he left his horse, whilst he descended into the palace and finding its threshold strewn with ashes, bethought him that one of his family was dead. Then he entered, as of wont, and found his father and mother and sisters clad in mourning raiment of black, pale-faced and lean of body. When his father saw him and was assured that it was indeed his son, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon, but presently coming to himself, threw himself upon him and embraced him, straining him to his bosom and rejoicing in him exceedingly. His mother and sisters heard this; so they came in and seeing the prince, fell upon him, kissing him and weeping and rejoicing with an exceeding joy. Then they questioned him of his case; so he told them all that had befallen him from first to last and his father said to him, 'Praised be God for thy safety, O solace of my eyes and life-blood of my heart!'

Then the King bade hold high festival, and the glad news flew through the city. So they beat the drums and the cymbals and putting off the raiment of mourning, donned that of joy and decorated the streets and markets; whilst the folk vied with one another who should be the first to give the King joy, and the latter proclaimed a general pardon and opening the prisons, released those who were therein. Moreover, he made banquets to the people seven days and nights and all creatures were glad; and he took horse with his son and rode out with him, that the folk might see him and rejoice. After awhile the prince enquired for the maker of the horse, saying, 'O my father, what hath fortune done with him?' 'May God not bless him,' answered the King, 'nor the hour in which I set eyes on him! For he was the cause of thy separation from us, O my son, and he hath lain in prison since the day of thy disappearance.' Then he bade release him from prison and sending for him, invested him in a dress of honour and entreated him with the utmost favour and munificence, save that he would not give him his daughter to wife; whereat he was sore enraged and repented of that which he had done, knowing that the prince had learnt the secret of the horse and the manner of its motion. Moreover, the King said to his son, 'Methinks thou wilt do well not to mount the horse neither go near it henceforth; for thou knowest not its properties, and it is perilous for thee to meddle with it.' Now the prince had told his father of his adventure with the King's daughter of Senaa, and he said, 'If the King had been minded to kill thee, he had done so; but thine hour was not yet come.'

When the rejoicings were at an end, the people returned to their houses and the King and his son to the palace, where they sat down and fell to eating and drinking and making merry. Now the King had a handsome slave-girl, who was skilled in playing upon the lute; so she took it and began to play upon it and sing thereto of separation of lovers before the King and his son, and she chanted the following verses:

Think not that absence ever shall win me to forget: For what should I remember, if I'd forgotten you? Time passes, but my passion for you shall never end: In love of you, I swear it, I'll die and rise anew.

When the prince heard this, the fires of longing flamed up in his heart and passion redoubled upon him. Grief and regret were sore upon him and his entrails yearned in him for love of the King's daughter of Senaa; so he rose forthright and eluding his father's notice, went forth the palace to the horse and mounting it, turned the peg of ascent, whereupon it flew up into the air with him and soared towards the confines of the sky. Presently, his father missed him and going up to the summit of the palace, in great concern, saw the prince rising into the air; whereat he was sore afflicted and repented exceedingly that he had not taken the horse and hidden it: and he said in himself, 'By Allah, if but my son return to me, I will destroy the horse, that my heart may be at rest concerning my son.' And he fell again to weeping and bewailing himself for his son.

Meanwhile, the prince flew on through the air till he came to the city of Senaa and alighted on the roof as before. Then he went down stealthily and finding the eunuch asleep, as of wont, raised the curtain and went on, little by little, till he came to the door of the princess's chamber and stopped to listen; when, behold, he heard her weeping plenteous tears and reciting verses, whilst her women slept round her. Presently, they heard her weeping and wailing and said, 'O our mistress, why wilt thou mourn for one who mourns not for thee?' 'O little of wit,' answered she, 'is he for whom I mourn of those who are forgotten?' And she fell again to weeping and wailing, till sleep overcame her.

Now the prince's heart ached for her, so he entered and seeing her lying asleep, without covering, touched her with his hand; whereupon she opened her eyes and saw him standing by her. Quoth he, 'Why this weeping and mourning?' And when she knew him, she threw herself upon him and embraced him and kissed him and answered, 'For thy sake and because of my separation from thee.' 'O my lady,' said he, 'I have wearied for thee all this time!' But she answered, 'It is I who have wearied for thee, and hadst thou tarried longer, I had surely died!' 'O my lady,' rejoined he, 'what thinkest thou of my case with thy father and how he dealt with me? Were it not for my love of thee, O ravishment of all creatures, I had surely slain him and made him a warning to all beholders; but, even as I love thee, so I love him for thy sake.' Quoth she, 'How couldst thou leave me? Can life be sweet to me after thee?' Quoth he, 'Let what has happened suffice now: I am hungry and thirsty.' So she bade her maidens make ready meat and drink, [and they sat eating and drinking and conversing] till nigh upon daybreak, when he rose to take leave of her and depart, ere the eunuch should awake, and she said, 'Whither goest thou?' 'To my father's house,' answered he; 'and I plight thee my troth that I will come to thee once in every week.' But she wept and said, 'I conjure thee, by God the Supreme, take me with thee whither thou goest and make me not taste anew the bitterness of separation from thee.' Quoth he, 'Wilt thou indeed go with me?' and she answered, 'Yes.' 'Then,' said he, 'arise, that we may depart.' So she rose forthright and going to a chest, arrayed herself in what was richest and dearest to her of her trinkets of gold and jewels of price. Then he carried her up to the roof of the palace and mounting the horse, took her up behind him and bound her fast to himself; after which he turned the peg of ascent, and the horse rose with him into the air. When her women saw this, they shrieked aloud and told her father and mother, who rushed up to the roof of the palace and looking up, saw the ebony horse flying away with the prince and princess. At this the King was sore troubled and cried out, saying, 'O King's son, I conjure thee, by Allah, have compassion on me and my wife and bereave us not of our daughter!' The prince made him no reply, but, thinking that the princess repented of leaving her father and mother, said to her, 'O ravishment of the age, wilt thou that I restore thee to thy father and mother?' 'By Allah, O my lord, that is not my desire,' answered she; 'my only wish is to be with thee wherever thou art; for I am distracted by the love of thee from all else, even to my father and mother.' At this the prince rejoiced greatly and made the horse fare softly with them, so as not to disquiet the princess; nor did they stay their flight till they came in sight of a green meadow, in which was a spring of running water. Here they alighted and ate and drank; after which they took horse again and fared on, till they came in sight of his father's capital. At this, the prince was filled with joy and bethought himself to show her the seat of his dominion and his father's power and dignity and give her to know that it was greater than that of her father. So he set her down in one of his father's pleasance-gardens [without the city] and carrying her into a pavilion there, prepared for the King, left the horse at the door and charged her keep watch over it, saying, 'Sit here, till my messenger come to thee; for I go now to my father, to make ready a palace for thee and show thee my royal estate.' 'Do as thou wilt,' answered she, for she was glad that she should not enter but with due honour and observance, as became her rank.

Then he left her and betook himself to the palace of the King his father, who rejoiced in his return and welcomed him; and the prince said to him, 'Know that I have brought with me the princess of whom I told thee and have left her without the city in such a garden and come to tell thee, that thou mayest make ready and go forth to meet her in state and show her thy royal dignity and troops and guards.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King and straightway bade decorate the city after the goodliest fashion. Then he took horse and rode out in all state and splendour, he and his troops and household and grandees; whilst the prince made ready for her a litter of green and red and yellow brocade, in which he set Indian and Greek and Abyssinian slave-girls. Moreover, he took forth of his treasuries jewellery and apparel and what else of the things that kings treasure up and made a rare display of wealth and magnificence. Then he left the litter and those who were therein and rode forward to the pavilion, where he had left the princess; but found both her and the horse gone. When he saw this, he buffeted his face and rent his clothes and went round about the garden, as he had lost his wits; after which he came to his senses and said to himself, 'How could she have come at the secret of the horse, seeing I told her nothing of it? Maybe the Persian sage who made the horse has chanced upon her and stolen her away, in revenge for my father's treatment of him.' Then he sought the keepers of the garden and asked them if they had seen any enter the garden.

Quoth they, 'We have seen none enter but the Persian sage, who came to gather simples.' So the prince was certified that it was indeed he that had taken away the princess and abode confounded and perplexed concerning his case. And he was abashed before the folk and returning to his father, [told him what had happened and] said to him, 'Take the troops and return to the city. As for me, I will never return till I have cleared up this affair.' When the King heard this, he wept and beat his breast and said to him, 'O my son, calm thyself and master thy chagrin and return with us and look what King's daughter thou wouldst fain have, that I may marry thee to her.' But the prince paid no heed to his words and bidding him farewell, departed, whilst the King returned to the city and their joy was changed into mourning.

Now, as Fate would have it, when the prince left the princess in the pavilion and betook himself to his father's palace, for the ordering of his affair, the Persian entered the garden to pluck simples and scenting the fragrance of musk and essences, that exhaled from the princess's person and perfumed the whole place, followed it till he came to the pavilion and saw the horse, that he had made with his own hands, standing at the door. At this sight, his heart was filled with joy and gladness, for he had mourned sore for it, since it had gone out of his hand. So he went up to it and examining its every part, found it safe and sound; whereupon he was about to mount and ride away, when he bethought himself and said, 'Needs must I first look what the prince hath brought and left here with the horse.' So he entered the pavilion and seeing the princess sitting there, as she were the sun shining in the cloudless sky, knew her to be some high-born lady and doubted not but the prince had brought her thither on the horse and left her in the pavilion, whilst he went to the city, to make ready for her entry in state.

Then he went up to her and kissed the earth before her, whereupon she raised her eyes to him and finding him exceeding foul of face and favour, said, 'Who art thou?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'I am sent by the prince, who hath bidden me bring thee to another garden, nearer the city; for that my lady the queen cannot go so far a journey and is unwilling, of her joy in thee, that another should forestall her with thee.' 'Where is the prince?' asked she; and the Persian replied, 'He is in the city, with his father, and will presently come for thee in great state.' 'O fellow,' said she, 'could he find none to send to me but thee?' At this he laughed and answered, 'O my lady, let not the ugliness of my face and the foulness of my favour deceive thee. Hadst thou profited of me as hath the prince, thou wouldst praise my affair. Indeed, he chose me as his messenger to thee, because of my uncomeliness and forbidding aspect, in his jealousy and love of thee: else hath he slaves and pages and servants, white and black, out of number, each goodlier than the other.' When she heard this, it commended itself to her reason and she believed him; so she rose and putting her hand in his, said, 'O my father, what hast thou brought me to ride?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'thou shalt ride the horse thou camest on.' Quoth she, 'I cannot ride it by myself.' Whereupon he smiled and knew that she was in his power and said, 'I myself will ride with thee.' So he mounted and taking her up behind him, bound her fast to himself, for she knew not what he would with her. Then he turned the peg of ascent, whereupon the belly of the horse became full of wind and it swayed to and fro and rose with them into the air nor slackened in its flight, till it was out of sight of the city.

When the princess saw this, she said to him, 'O fellow, what didst thou tell me of the prince, that he sent thee to me?' 'Foul befall the prince!' answered the Persian. 'He is a scurril knave.' And she said, 'Out on thee! How darest thou disobey thy lord's commandment!' 'He is no lord of mine,' rejoined the Persian. 'Knowst thou who I am?' 'I know nothing of thee,' replied the princess, 'save what thou toldest me.' Quoth he, 'What I told thee was a trick of mine against thee and the prince. I am he who made this horse under us, and I have long regretted its loss; for the prince made himself master of it. But now I have gotten possession of it and of thee too, and I will rack his heart, even as he hath racked mine; nor shall he ever have the horse again. So take comfort and be of good cheer, for I can be of more service to thee than he.' When she heard this, she buffeted her face and cried out, saying, 'Ah, woe is me! I have neither gotten my beloved nor kept my father and mother!' And she wept sore over what had befallen her, whilst the Persian fared on with her, without ceasing, till he came to the land of the Greeks and alighted in a verdant meadow, abounding in trees and streams.

Now this meadow was near a city, in which was a king of great puissance, and it befell that he went forth that day to hunt and divert himself. As he passed by the meadow, he saw the Persian standing there, with the princess and the horse by his side, and before he was aware, the King's followers fell upon him and carried him, the lady and the horse to their master, who noting the foulness of his favour and the beauty and grace of the princess, said to the latter, 'O my lady, what kin is this old fellow to thee?' The Persian made haste to reply, 'She is my wife and the daughter of my father's brother.' But she gave him the lie and said, 'O King, by Allah, I know him not, nor is he my husband, but hath stolen me away by force and fraud.' Thereupon the King bade beat the Persian, and they beat him, till he was well-nigh dead; after which the King commanded to carry him to the city and cast him into prison, and taking the princess and the horse from him, set the former in his harem and laid up the latter in his treasury, though he knew not its properties nor the secret of its motion.

Meanwhile, the prince donned a travelling-habit and taking what he needed of money, set out, in very sorry plight, in quest of the princess, and journeyed from country to country and city to city, enquiring after the ebony horse, whilst all who heard him marvelled at him and deemed his talk extravagant. Thus did he a long while; but, for all his enquiry and research, he could win at no news of her. At last, he came to the city of Senaa and there enquired for her, but could get no tidings of her and found her father mourning her loss. So he turned back and made for the land of the Greeks, pursuing his enquiries as he went, till, as chance would have it, he alighted at a certain khan and saw a company of merchants sitting talking. He sat down near them and heard one say to the others, 'O my friends, I happened lately upon a wonder of wonders.' 'What was that?' asked they, and he answered, 'I was late in such a city,' naming the city wherein was the princess, 'and heard its people speak of a strange thing that had lately befallen. It was that their King went out one day a-hunting, with a company of his courtiers and the grandees of his realm, and coming to a green meadow, espied there a man standing, with a horse of ebony, and a lady sitting hard by. The man was ugly and foul of favour, but the lady was a marvel of beauty and grace and symmetry; and as for the ebony horse, it was a wonder, never saw eyes aught goodlier than it nor more perfect than its fashion.' 'And what did the King with them?' asked the others. 'As for the man,' said the merchant, 'he questioned him of the lady and he pretended that she was his wife and the daughter of his father's brother; but she gave him the lie. So the King took her from him and bade beat him and cast him into prison. As for the horse, I know not what became of it.' When the prince heard this, he drew near unto the speaker and questioned him discreetly and courteously, till he told him the name of the city and of its king; which when he knew, he passed the night, full of joy.

On the morrow, he set out and travelled till he reached the city; but, when he would have entered, the gatekeepers laid hands on him, that they might bring him before the King; for that it was his wont to question all strangers respecting their conditions and the crafts in which they were skilled and the reason of their coming thither. Now it was eventide, when he entered the city, and it was then too late to go in to the King or take counsel with him respecting him. So they carried him to the prison, thinking to lay him therein for the night; but, when the warders saw his beauty and grace, they could not find it in their hearts to imprison him, but made him sit with them, without the prison; and when food came to them, he ate his fill with them. When they had made an end of eating, they turned to him and said, 'What countryman art thou?' 'I come from Persia,' answered he, 'the land of the Chosroes.' When they heard this, they laughed and one of them said, 'O Chosroaen, I have heard the talk of men and their histories and looked upon their conditions; but never saw or heard I a greater liar than the Chosroaen that is with us in the prison.' 'Nor,' quoth another, 'did I ever see fouler than his favour or more repulsive than his aspect.' 'What have ye seen of his lying?' asked the prince, and they answered, 'He pretends that he is a sage. Now the King came upon him, as he went a-hunting, and found with him a most beautiful lady and a horse of ebony, never saw I a handsomer. As for the lady, she is with the King, who is enamoured of her and would fain marry her; but she is mad, and were this man a physician, as he pretends, he would have cured her, for the King doth his utmost endeavour to find a remedy for her disease, and this whole year past hath he spent treasures upon physicians and astrologers, on her account; but none can avail to cure her. As for the horse, it is in the royal treasury, and the man is here with us in the prison; and all night long he weeps and bemoans himself and will not let us sleep.'

When the prince heard this, he bethought himself of a device by which he might compass his desire; and presently the warders, being minded to sleep, clapped him into the prison and locked the door. He heard the Persian weeping and bemoaning himself, in his own tongue, and saying, 'Woe is me for my sin, that I sinned against myself and against the King's son, in that which I did with the damsel; for I neither left her nor got my desire of her! All this comes of my want of sense, in that I sought for myself that which I deserved not and which befitted not the like of me; for he, who seeks what befits him not, falleth into the like of my predicament.' When the prince heard this, he accosted him in Persian, saying, 'How long wilt thou keep up this weeping and wailing? Thinkst thou that there hath befallen thee what never befell other than thou?' When the Persian heard this, he made friends with him and began to complain to him of his case and misfortunes.

As soon as it was day, the warders took the prince and carried him before the King, informing him that he had entered the city on the previous night, at a time when no audience could be had of him. Quoth the King to the prince, 'Whence comest thou and what is thy name and craft and why comest thou hither?' And he answered, 'I am called, in Persian, Herjeh. I come from the land of Fars and I am of the men of art and especially of the art of medicine and cure the sick and the mad. For this, I go round about all countries and cities, adding knowledge to my knowledge, and whenever I see a sick person, I heal him; and this is my craft.' When the King heard this, he rejoiced exceedingly and said, 'O excellent sage, thou hast come to us at a time when we have need of thee.' Then he acquainted him with the case of the princess, adding, 'If thou win to cure her and recover her of her madness, thou shalt have of me whatever thou seekest.' 'May God advance the King!' rejoined the prince. 'Describe to me all thou hast seen of her madness and tell me how long it is since it attacked her; also how thou camest by her.' So the King told him the whole story, from first to last, adding, 'The sage is in prison.' 'O august King,' said the prince, 'and what hast thou done with the horse?' 'It is with me yet, laid up in one of my treasure-chambers,' replied the King; whereupon quoth the prince in himself, 'The first thing to do is to see the horse and assure myself of its condition. If it be whole and unhurt, all will be well; but, if its works be destroyed, I must find some other way of delivering my beloved.'

So he turned to the King and said to him, 'O King, I must see the horse in question: haply I may find in it somewhat that will serve me for the recovery of the damsel.' 'With all my heart,' replied the King and taking him by the hand, led him to the place where the horse was. The prince went round about it, examining its condition, and found it whole and unhurt, whereat he rejoiced greatly and said to the King, 'May God exalt the King! I would fain go in to the damsel, that I may see how it is with her; for I hope, by God's grace, to cure her by means of the horse.' Then he bade take care of the horse and the King carried him to the princess's apartment, where he found her writhing and beating herself against the ground, as was her wont; but there was no madness in her, and she did this but that none might approach her. When the prince saw her thus, he said to her, 'No harm shall betide thee, O ravishment of all creatures;' and went on to soothe her and speak her fair, till he won to make himself known to her; whereupon she gave a loud cry and fell down in a swoon for excess of joy; but the King thought this came of her fear of him.

Then the prince put his mouth to her ear and said to her, 'O seduction of the universe, have a care for thy life and mine and be patient and constant; for we have need of patience and skilful ordinance to make shift for our delivery from this tyrannical King. To begin with, I will now go out to him and tell him that thou art possessed of a genie, and hence thy madness; but, that if he will loose thee from thy bonds, I will engage to heal thee and drive away the evil spirit. So, when he comes in to thee, do thou give him fair words, that he may think I have cured thee, and all will be accomplished as we desire.' Quoth she, 'I hear and obey;' and he went out to the King, full of joy and happiness, and said to him, 'O august King, by thy good fortune I have discovered her disease and its remedy and have cured her for thee. So now do thou go in to her and speak softly to her and entreat her kindly, and promise her what may please her; so shall all thou desirest of her be accomplished to thee.' So he went in to her and when she saw him, she rose and kissing the ground, bade him welcome; whereat he was greatly rejoiced and bade the eunuchs and waiting-women attend her and carry her to the bath and make ready for her dresses and ornaments.

So they went in to her and saluted her, and she returned their greeting, after the goodliest and pleasantest fashion; after which they clad her in royal apparel and clasping a collar of jewels about her neck, carried her to the bath and served her there. Then they brought her forth, as she were the full moon; and when she came into the King's presence, she saluted him and kissed the ground before him, whereupon he rejoiced in her with an exceeding joy and said to the prince, 'All this is of thy blessing, may God increase us of thy good offices!' Quoth the prince, 'O King, it behoves, for the completion of her cure, that thou carry her forth, together with the ebony horse, and attend her with all thy troops to the place where thou foundest her, that there I may expel from her the evil spirit, by whom she is possessed, and bind him and kill him, so he may never more return to her.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King. Then he caused carry out the horse to the meadow in question and mounting, rode thither with all his troops and the princess, knowing not the prince's purpose.

When they came to the appointed place, the prince bade set the horse and the princess as far as the eye could reach from the King and his troops and said to the former, 'With thy leave, I will now proceed to the needful fumigations and conjurations and imprison the genie here, that he may nevermore return to her. After this, I shall mount the horse and take the damsel up behind me; whereupon it will sway to and fro and fare forward, till it come to thee, when the affair will be at an end; and after this thou mayst do with her as thou wilt.' And when the King heard his words, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy. So the prince mounted the horse and taking the princess up behind him, bound her fast to him, whilst the King and his troops watched him. Then he turned the peg of ascent and the horse took flight and soared with them into the air, till he disappeared from sight.

The King abode half the day, expecting their return; but they returned not. So, when he despaired of them, he returned to the city with his troops, repenting him greatly of that which he had done and grieving sore for the loss of the damsel. He shut himself up in his palace, mourning and afflicted; but his Viziers came in to him and applied themselves to comfort him, saying, 'Verily, he who took the damsel is an enchanter, and praised be God who hath delivered thee from his craft and sorcery!' And they ceased not from him, till he was comforted for her loss.

Meanwhile, the prince bent his course, in joy and cheer, towards his father's capital and stayed not, till he alighted on his own palace, where he set the princess in safety; after which he went in to his father and mother and acquainted them with her coming, whereat they rejoiced exceedingly. Then he made great banquets to the townsfolk and they held high festival a whole month, at the end of which time he went in to the princess and they rejoiced in one another with an exceeding joy. But his father broke the horse in pieces and destroyed its works. Moreover, the prince wrote a letter to the princess's father, advising him of all that had befallen her and how she was now married to him and in all health and happiness, and sent it by a messenger, together with costly presents and rarities. The messenger, in due course, arrived at the city of Senaa and delivered the letter and the presents to the King, who, when he read the former, rejoiced greatly and accepted the presents, rewarding the bearer handsomely. Moreover, he sent rich presents to his son-in-law by the same messenger, who returned to his master and acquainted him with what had passed, whereat he was much cheered. And after this the prince wrote a letter every year to his father-in-law and sent him a present, till, in course of time, his father King Sabour died and he reigned in his stead, ruling justly over his subjects and ordering himself well and righteously towards them, so that they submitted themselves to him and did him loyal service; and he and his wife abode in the enjoyment of all delight and solace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, He that layeth waste the palaces and peopleth the tombs; and glory be to the Living One who dieth not and in whose hand is the dominion of the Seen and the Unseen!



UNS EL WUJOUD AND THE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER ROSE-IN-BUD.



There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a King of great power and glory and dominion, who had a Vizier named Ibrahim, and this Vizier had a daughter of extraordinary beauty and grace, gifted with surpassing brilliancy and all perfection, possessed of abundant wit and perfectly accomplished. She loved wine and good cheer and fair faces and choice verses and rare stories; and the delicacy of her charms invited all hearts to love, even as Saith the poet, describing her:

She shines out like the moon at full, that midst the stars doth fare, And for a wrapping-veil she hath the ringlets of her hair. The Eastern zephyr gives her boughs to drink of all its sweets And like a jointed cane, she sways to every breath of air. She smiles in passing by. O thou that dost alike accord With red and yellow and arrayed in each, alike art fair, Thou sportest with my wit in love, so that indeed meseems As if a sparrow in the clutch of playful urchin 'twere.

Her name was Rose-in-bud and she was so named for the exceeding delicacy and perfection of her beauty; and the King loved to carouse with her, because of her wit and good breeding.

Now it was the King's custom yearly to gather together all the nobles of his realm and play with the ball. So, when the day came round, on which the folk assembled for ball-play, the Vizier's daughter seated herself at her lattice, to divert herself by looking on at the game; and as they were at play, her eyes fell upon a youth among them, never was seen a handsomer than he or a goodlier of favour, for he was bright of face, laughing-teethed, tall and broad-shouldered. She looked at him again and again and could not take her fill of gazing on him. Then she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of yonder handsome young man among the troops?' 'O my daughter,' replied the nurse, 'they are all handsome. Which of them dost thou mean?' 'Wait till he passes,' said Rose-in-bud, 'and I will point him out to thee.' So she took an apple and waited till he came under her window, when she dropped it on him, whereupon he raised his head, to see who did this, and saw the Vizier's daughter at the window, as she were the full moon in the darkness of the night; nor did he withdraw his eyes, till he had fallen passionately in love with her; and he recited the following verses:

Was it an archer shot me or did thine eyes undo The lover's heart that saw thee, what time thou metst his view? Did the notched arrow reach me from midst a host, indeed, Or was it from a lattice that launched at me it flew?

When the game was at an end, he went away with the King, [whose servant and favourite he was,] with heart occupied with love of her; and she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of that youth I showed thee?' 'His name is Uns el Wujoud,' answered she; whereat Rose-in-bud shook her head and lay down on her couch, with a heart on fire for love. Then, sighing deeply, she improvised the following verses:

He erred not who dubbed thee, "All creatures' delight,"[FN#75] That pleasance and bounty[FN#76] at once dust unite. Full-moonlike of aspect, O thou whose fair face O'er all the creation sheds glory and light, Thou'rt peerless midst mortals, the sovran of grace, And many a witness to this I can cite. Thy brows are a Noun[FN#77] and shine eyes are a Sad,[FN#78] That the hand of the loving Creator did write; Thy shape is the soft, tender sapling, that gives Of its bounties to all that its favours invite. Yea, indeed, thou excellest the world's cavaliers In pleasance and beauty and bounty and might.

When she had finished, she wrote the verses on a sheet of paper, which she folded in a piece of gold-embroidered silk and laid under her pillow. Now one of her nurses saw her; so she came up to her and held her in talk, till she slept, when she stole the scroll from under her pillow and reading it, knew that she had fallen in love with Uns el Wujoud. Then she returned the scroll to its place and when her mistress awoke, she said to her, 'O my lady, indeed, I am to thee a faithful counsellor and am tenderly solicitous for thee. Know that passion is grievous and the hiding it melteth iron and causeth sickness and unease; nor is there reproach for whoso confesses it.' 'O my nurse,' rejoined Rose-in-bud,'and what is the remedy of passion?' 'The remedy of passion is enjoyment,' answered the nurse. 'And how may one come by enjoyment?' asked Rose-in-bud. 'By letters and messages,' replied the nurse, 'and many a tender word and greeting; this brings lovers together and makes hard matters easy. So, if thou have aught at heart, mistress mine, I will engage to keep thy secret and do thy need and carry thy letters.'

When the girl heard this, her reason fled for joy; but she restrained herself from speech, till she should see the issue of the matter, saying in herself, 'None knoweth this thing of me, nor will I trust this woman with my secret, till I have proved her.' Then said the nurse, 'O my lady, I saw in my sleep as though one came to me and said, "Thy mistress and Uns el Wujoud love one another; so do thou serve their loves by carrying their messages and doing their need and keeping their secrets; and much good shall befall thee." So now I have told thee my dream, and it is thine to decide.' 'O my nurse,' quoth Rose-in-bud, 'canst thou keep secrets?' 'And how should I not keep secrets,' answered the nurse, 'I that am of the flower of the free-born?' Then Rose-in-bud pulled out the scroll, on which she had written the verses afore said, and said to her,' Carry this my letter to Uns el Wujoud and bring me his answer.'

So the nurse took the letter and repairing to Uns el Wujoud, kissed his hands and saluted him right courteously, then gave him the letter; and he read it and wrote on the back the following verses:

I temper my heart in passion and hide my case as I may; But my case interprets for me and doth my love bewray. And whenas my lids brim over with tears,—lest the spy should see And come to fathom my secret,—"My eye is sore," I say. Of old I was empty-hearted and knew not what love was; But now I am passion's bondman, my heart to love's a prey. To thee I prefer my petition, complaining of passion and pain, So haply thou mayst be softened and pity my dismay. With the tears of my eye I have traced it, that so unto thee it may The tidings of what I suffer for thee to thee convey. God watch o'er a visage, that veileth itself with beauty, a face That the full moon serves as a bondman and the stars as slaves obey! Yea' Allah protect her beauty, whose like I ne'er beheld! The boughs from her graceful carriage, indeed, might learn to sway. I beg thee to grant me a visit; algates, if it irk thee nought. An thou knewst how dearly I'd prize it, thou wouldst not say me nay. I give thee my life, so haply thou mayst accept it: to me Thy presence is life eternal and hell thy turning away.

Then he folded the letter and kissing it, gave it to the nurse and said to her, 'O nurse, incline thy lady's heart to me.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she and carried the letter to her mistress, who kissed it and laid it on her head, then wrote at the foot of it these verses:

Harkye, thou whose heart is taken with my grace and loveliness, Have but patience, and right surely thou my favours shalt possess. When we were assured the passion thou avouchedst was sincere And that that which us betided had betided thee no less, Gladly had we then vouchsafed thee what thou sighedst for, and more; But our guardians estopped us to each other from access. When night darkens on the dwellings, fires are lighted in our heart And our entrails burn within us, for desire and love's excess. Yea, for love and longing, slumber is a stranger to our couch And the burning pangs of fever do our body sore distress. 'Twas a law of passion ever, love and longing to conceal; Lift not thou the curtain from us nor our secret aye transgress. Ah, my heart is overflowing with the love of yon gazelle; Would it had not left our dwellings for the distant wilderness.

Then she folded the letter and gave it to the nurse, who took it and went out to go to the young man; but as she went forth the door, her master met her and said to her, 'Whither away?' 'To the bath,' answered she; but, in her trouble, she dropped the letter, without knowing it, and one of the servants, seeing it lying in the way, picked it up. When she came without the door, she sought for it, but found it not, so turned back to her mistress and told her of this and what had befallen her with the Vizier.

Meanwhile, the latter came out of the harem and seated himself on his couch. Presently, the servant, who had picked up the letter, came in to him, with it in his hand, and said, 'O my lord, I found this paper lying on the floor and picked it up.' So the Vizier took it from his hand, folded as it was, and opening it, read the verses above set down. Then he examined the writing and knew it for his daughter's hand; whereupon he went in to her mother, weeping so sore that his beard was drenched. 'What makes thee weep, O my lord?' asked she; and he answered, 'Take this letter and see what is therein.' So she took it and saw it to be a love-letter from her daughter Rose-in-bud to Uns el Wujoud; whereupon the tears sprang to her eyes; but she mastered herself and swallowing her tears, said to her husband, 'O my lord, there is no profit in weeping: the right course is to cast about for a means of preserving thine honour and concealing thy daughter's affair.' And she went on to comfort him and lighten his trouble. Quoth he, 'I am fearful of what may ensue this passion of my daughter, and that for two reasons. The first concerns myself; it is, that she is my daughter; the second, that Uns el Wujoud is a favourite with the Sultan, who loves him with an exceeding love, and maybe great troubles shall come of this affair. What deemest thou of the matter?' 'Wait,' answered she, 'whilst I pray to God for direction.' So she prayed a two-bow prayer, according to the prophetic ordinance of the prayer for divine guidance; after which she said to her husband, 'Amiddleward the Sea of Treasures stands a mountain called the Mount of the Bereaved Mother,' (the cause of which being so named shall follow in its place, if it be the will of God,) 'and thither can none come, save with difficulty; do thou make her an abiding-place there.'

So the Vizier and his wife agreed to build, on the mountain in question, a strong castle and lodge his daughter therein with a year's victual, to be annually renewed, and attendants to serve and keep her company. Accordingly, he collected builders and carpenters and architects and despatched them to the mountain, where they builded her an impregnable castle, never saw eyes its like. Then he made ready victual and carriage for the journey and going in to his daughter by night, bade her make ready to set out on a pleasure-excursion. She refused to set out by night, but he was instant with her, till she went forth; and when she saw the preparations for the journey, her heart misgave her of separation from her beloved and she wept sore and wrote upon the door the following verses, to acquaint him with what had passed and with the transports of passion and grief that were upon her, transports such as would make the flesh quake, that would cause the hearts of stones to melt and eyes to overflow with tears:

By Allah, O house, if the loved one pass in the morning-glow And greet with the greeting of lovers, as they pass to and fro, Give him our salutation, a pure and fragrant one, For that we have departed, and whither he may not know. Why on this wise they hurry me off by stealth, anights And lightly equipped, I know not, nor whither with me they go. Neath cover of night and darkness, they carry me forth, alack I Whilst the birds in the brake bewail us and make their moan for our woe; And the tongue of the case interprets their language and cries, "Alas, Alas for the pain of parting from those that we love, heigho!" When I saw that the cups of sev'rance were filled and that Fate, indeed, Would give us to drink of its bitter, unmingled, would we or no, I blended the draught with patience becoming, as best I might; But patience avails not to solace my heart for your loss, I trow.

Then she mounted, and they set forward with her and fared on over desert and plain and hill, till they came to the shore of the Sea of Treasures, where they pitched their tents and built a great ship, in which they embarked her and her suite and carried them over to the mountain. Here they left them in the castle and making their way back to the shore, broke up the vessel, in obedience to the Vizier's commandment, and returned home, weeping over what had befallen.

Meanwhile, Uns el Wujoud arose from sleep and prayed the morning prayer, after which he mounted and rode forth to wait upon the Sultan. On his way, he passed by the Vizier's house, thinking to see some of his followers, as of wont, but saw no one and drawing near the door, read the verses aforesaid written thereon. At this sight, his senses failed him; fire was kindled in his vitals and he returned to his lodging, where he passed the rest of the day in ceaseless trouble and anxiety, without finding ease or patience, till night darkened upon him, when his transport redoubled. So he put off his clothes and disguising himself in a fakir's habit, set out, at a venture, under cover of the night, distraught and knowing not whither he went.

He wandered on all that night and next day, till the heat of the sun grew fierce and the mountains flamed like fire and thirst was grievous upon him. Presently, he espied a tree, by whose side was a spring of running water; so he made towards it and sitting down in the shade, on the bank of the rivulet, essayed to drink, but found that the water had no taste in his mouth. Then, [looking in the stream,] he saw that his body was wasted, his colour changed and his face grown pale and his, feet, to boot, swollen with walking and weariness. So he shed copious tears and repeated the following verses:

The lover is drunken with love of his fair; In longing and heat he redoubles fore'er. Love-maddened, confounded, distracted, perplexed, No dwelling is pleasant to him and no fare. For how, to a lover cut off from his love, Can life be delightsome? 'Twere strange an it were. I melt with the fire of my passion for her And the tears down my cheek roll and never forbear. Shall I ever behold her or one from her stead, With whom I may solace my heart in despair?

And he wept till he wet the ground; after which he rose and fared on again over deserts and wilds, till there came out upon him a lion, with a neck buried in hair, a head the bigness of a dome, a mouth wider than the door [thereof] and teeth like elephants' tusks. When Uns el Wujoud saw him, he gave himself up for lost and turning towards Mecca, pronounced the professions of the faith and prepared for death.

Now he had read in books that whoso will flatter the lion, beguileth him, for that he is lightly duped by fair words and glorieth in praise; so he began and said, 'O lion of the forest and the waste! O unconquerable warrior! O father of heroes and Sultan of wild beasts! Behold, I am a desireful lover, whom passion and severance have undone. Since I parted from my beloved, I have lost my reason; wherefore, do thou hearken to my speech and have ruth on my passion and love-longing.' When the lion heard this, he drew back from him and sitting down on his hind-quarters, raised his head to him and began to frisk his tail and paws to him; which when Uns el Wujoud saw, he recited these verses:

Wilt slay me, O lord of the desert, before My enslaver I meet with, e'en her I adore? No fat on me is; I'm no booty for thee; For the loss of my loved one hath wasted me sore. Yea, my love's separation hath worn out my soul, And I'm grown like a shape, with a shroud covered o'er. Give the railers not cause to exult in my woe, O prince of the spoilers, O lion of war! A lover, all sleepless for loss of my dear, I'm drowned in the tears from mine eyelids that pour; And my pining for her in the darkness of night Hath robbed me, for passion, of reason and lore.

When he had finished, the lion rose and coming softly up to him, with his eyes full of tears, licked him with his tongue, then walked on before him, signing to him, as who should say, 'Follow me.' So he followed him, and he led him on till he brought him, over a mountain, to the farther side, where he came upon the track of a caravan and knew it to be that of Rose-in-bud and her company. When the lion saw that he knew the track and set himself to follow it, he turned back and went his way; whilst Uns el Wujoud followed the foot-marks, till they brought him to a surging sea, swollen with clashing billows. The trail led down to the water's edge and there broke off; whereby he knew that they had taken ship there and had continued their journey by sea. So he lost hope of finding his beloved and repeated the following verses, weeping sore:

Far's the place of visitation and my patience faileth me For my love; but how to reach her o'er the abysses of the sea? When, for love of her, my vitals are consumed and I've forsworn Slumber, sleep for wake exchanging, ah, how can I patient be? Since the day she left the homesteads and departed, hath my heart Burnt with never-ceasing anguish, all a-fire with agony. Oxus and Jaxartes, running like Euphrates, are my tears; More than rain and flood abounding, run like rivers to the sea. Ulcerated are my eyelids with the running of the tears, And my heart on fires of passion's burnt and wasted utterly. Yea, the armies of my longing and my transport on me pressed, And the hosts of my endurance did before them break and flee. Lavishly my life I've ventured for the love of her; for life Is the lightest to a lover of all ventures, verily. Be an eye of God unpunished that beheld the beauteous one, Than the moon how much more splendid, in the harem's sanctuary! Struck was I and smitten prostrate by wide-opened eyes, whose shafts, From a bow all stringless loosened, pierced the hapless heart of me. By the soft and flexile motions of her shape she captived me, Swaying as the limber branches sway upon the cassia-tree. Union with her I covet, that therewith I may apply Solace to the pains of passion, love and care and misery. For the love of her, afflicted, as I am, I have become; All that's fallen on me betided from the evil eye, perdie.

Then he wept, till he swooned away, and abode in his swoon a long while. When he came to himself, he looked right and left and seeing none in the desert, was fearful of the wild beasts; so he climbed to the top of a high mountain, where he heard a man's voice speaking within a cavern. He listened and found it to be that of a devotee, who had forsworn the world and given himself up to pious exercises. So he knocked thrice at the cavern door; but the hermit made him no answer, neither came forth to him; wherefore he sighed heavily and recited the following verses:

What way is open unto me, to my desire to get And put off weariness and toil and trouble and regret? All pains and terrors have combined on me, to make me hoar And old of head and heart, whilst I a very child am yet. I find no friend to solace me of longing and unease' Nor one 'gainst passion and its stress to aid me and abet. Alas, the torments I endure for waste and wistful love! Fortune, meseems, 'gainst me is turned and altogether set. Ah, woe's me for the lover's pain, unresting, passion-burnt, Him who in parting's bitter cup his lips perforce hath wet! His wit is ravished clean away by separation's woe, Fire in his heart and all consumed his entrails by its fret. Ah, what a dreadful day it was, when to her stead I came And that, which on the door was writ, my eyes confounded met! I wept, until I gave the earth to drink of my despair; But still from friend and foe I hid the woes that me beset. Then strayed I forth till, in the waste, a lion sprang on me And would have slain me straight; but him with flattering words I met And soothed him. So he spared my life and succoured me, as 'twere He too had known love's taste and been entangled in its net. Yet, for all this, could I but win to come to my desire, All, that I've suffered and endured, straightway I should forget. O thou, that harbour'st in thy cave, distracted from the world, Meseems thou'st tasted love and been its slave, O anchoret!

Hardly had he made an end of these verses when, behold, the door of the cavern opened and he heard one say' 'Alas, the pity of it I' So he entered and saluted the hermit, who returned his greeting and said to him, 'What is thy name?' 'Uns el Wujoud,' answered the young man. 'And what brings thee hither?' asked the hermit. So he told him his whole story, whereat he wept and said' 'O Uns el Wujoud, these twenty years have I dwelt in this place, but never beheld I any here, till the other day, when I heard a noise of cries and weeping, and looking forth in the direction of the sound, saw much people and tents pitched on the sea-shore. They built a ship, in which they embarked and sailed away. Then some of them returned with the ship and breaking it up, went their way; and methinks those, who embarked in the ship and returned not, are they whom thou seekest. In that case, thy trouble must needs be grievous and thou art excusable; though never yet was lover but suffered sorrows.' Then he recited the following verses:

Uns el Wujoud, thou deem'st me free of heart, but, wel-a-way! Longing and transport and desire fold and unfold me aye. Yea, love and passion have I known even from my earliest years, Since at my mother's nursing breast a suckling babe I lay. I struggled sore and long with Love, till I his power confessed. If thou enquire at him of me, he will me not unsay. I quaffed the cup of passion out, with languor and disease, And as a phantom I became for pining and decay. Strong was I, but my strength is gone and neath the swords of eyes, The armies of my patience broke and vanished clean away. Hope not to win delight of love, without chagrin and woe; For contrary with contrary conjoined is alway. But fear not change from lover true; do thou but constant be Unto thy wish, and thou shalt sure be happy yet some day: For unto lovers passion hath ordained that to forget Is heresy, forbidden all its mandates that obey.

Then he rose and coming to the youth, embraced him, and they wept together, till the hills rang with their crying and they fell down in a swoon. When they revived, they swore brotherhood in God the Most High, and the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud, 'This night will I pray to God and seek of Him direction what thou shouldst do to attain thy desire.'

To return to Rose-in-bud. When they brought her into the castle and she beheld its ordinance, she wept and exclaimed, 'By Allah, thou art a goodly place, save that thou lackest the presence of the beloved in thee!' Then, seeing [many] birds in the island, she bade her people set snares for them and hang up all they caught in cages within the castle; and they did so. But she sat at a window of the castle and bethought her of what had passed, and passion and transport and love-longing redoubled upon her, till she burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

To whom, of my desire complaining, shall I cry, To whom, for loss of loves and parting's sorrow, sigh? Flames rage within my breast, but I reveal them not, For fear lest they my case discover to the spy. I'm grown as thin as e'er a bodkin's wood, so worn With absence and lament and agony am I. Where is the loved one's eye, to see how I'm become Even as a blasted tree, stripped bare and like to die? They wronged me, when they shut me prisoner in a place, Wherein my love, alas I may never come me nigh. Greetings a thousandfold I beg the sun to bear, What time he riseth up and setteth from the sky, To a beloved one, who puts the moon to shame, For loveliness, and doth the Indian cane outvie. If the rose ape his cheek, "Now God forfend," I say, "That of my portion aught to pilfer thou shouldst try." Lo, in his mouth are springs of limpid water sweet, Refreshment that would bring to those in flames who lie. How shall I one forget who is my heart and soul, My malady and he that healing can apply?

Then, as the shadows darkened upon her, her longing increased and she called to mind the past and recited these verses also:

The shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain And longing rouses within me the old desireful pain. The anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast And love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain. Passion hath made me restless and yearning consumes my soul And tears discover my secret, that else concealed had lain. I know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe; Nor can my weak endeavour reknit Love's severed skein. My heart is a raging furnace, because of the heat whereof My entrails are racked with anguish, that nothing can assain. O thou, that thinkest to blame me for what is fallen on me, Enough, I suffer with patience whatever the Fates ordain. I swear I shall ne'er find comfort nor be consoled for them, The oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are never in vain! Bear tidings, O night, to my dear ones and greet them and witness bear That thou knowest in thee I sleep not, but ever to wake am fain.

Meanwhile, the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud, 'Go down into the valley and fetch me palm-fibre.' So he went and returned with the palm-fibre, which the hermit took and twisting into ropes, made therewith a net, such as is used for carrying straw; after which he said to the youth, 'O Uns el Wujoud, in the heart of the valley grows a gourd, which springs up and dries upon its roots. Go thither and fill this net therewith; then tie it together and casting it into the water, embark thereon and make for the midst of the sea, so haply thou shalt come to thy desire; for he, who adventureth not himself, shall not attain that he seeketh.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Uns el Wujoud and bidding the hermit farewell after he had prayed for him, betook himself to the hollow of the valley, where he did as he had counselled him and launched out upon the water, supported by the net.

Then there arose a wind, which drove him out to sea, till he was lost to the hermit's view; and he ceased not to fare on over the abysses of the ocean, one billow tossing him up on the crest of the wave and another bearing him down into the trough of the sea, and he beholding the while the terrors and wonders of the deep, for the space of three days, at the end of which time Fate cast him upon the Mount of the Bereft Mother, where he landed, weak and giddy as a fledgling bird, for hunger and thirst; but, finding there streams running and birds warbling on the branches and fruit-laden trees, growing in clusters and singly, he ate of the fruits and drank of the streams. Then he walked on till he saw some white thing alar off, and making for it, found that it was a strongly-fortified castle. So he went up to the gate and finding it locked, sat down by it.

He sat thus three days and on the fourth, the gate opened and an eunuch came out, who seeing Uns el Wujoud seated there, said to him, 'Whence comest thou and who brought thee hither?' Quoth he, 'I come from Ispahan and was travelling by sea with merchandise, when my ship was wrecked and the waves cast me upon this island.' When the eunuch heard this, he wept and embraced him, saying, 'God preserve thee, O [thou that bringest me the] fragrance of the beloved! Ispahan is my own country and I have there a cousin, the daughter of my father's brother, whom I loved and cherished from a child; but a people stronger than we fell upon us and taking me among other booty, docked me and sold me for an eunuch, whilst I was yet a lad; and this is how I come to be what I am.' Then he carried him into the courtyard of the castle, where he saw a great basin of water, surrounded by trees, on whose branches hung cages of silver, with doors of gold, and therein birds warbling and singing the praises of the Requiting King. In the first cage he came to was a turtle dove which, seeing him, raised her voice and cried out, saying, 'O Bountiful One!'[FN#79] Whereat he fell down in a swoon, but, presently coming to himself, sighed heavily and recited the following verses:

O turtle, art thou mad for love, as is my case? Then sing, 'O Bountiful!' and seek the Lord His grace! Tell me, doth thy descant in joyance tale its rise Or in desireful pain, that in thy heart hath place? If for desire thou moan'st of bygone loves or pin'st For dear ones that have gone and left thee but their trace, Or if thou'st lost thy love, like me, ah, then, indeed, Severance long-felt desire discovereth apace. God guard a lover true! Though my bones rot, nor time Nor absence from my heart her image shall efface.

Then he fainted again and presently coming to his senses, went on to the second cage, wherein he found a ring-dove. When it saw him, it sang out, 'O Eternal, I praise thee!' and he sighed and recited these verses:

I heard a ring-dove say in her plaintive note, "Despite of my woes, O Eternal, I praise Thee still!" And God, of His grace, reunion of our loves, in this my travel, may yet to us fulfil. She visits me oft,[FN#80] with her dusk-red honeyed lips, And lends to the passion within me an added thrill. And I cry, whilst the fires in my tortured heart flame high And my soul for ardour consumes and my eyes distil Tears that resemble blood and withouten cease Pour down on my wasted cheeks in many a rill, There's none created without affliction, and I Must bear with patience my tribulations, until The hour of solace with her I love one day Unite me. Ah, then, by God His power and will, In succouring lovers, I vow, I'll spend my good, For they're of my tribe and category still; And eke from prison I'll loose the birds, to boot, And leave, for joyance, the thought of every ill!

Then he went on to the third cage, in which was a mocking-bird. When it saw him, it set up a song, and he recited the following verses:

The mocking-bird delighteth me with his harmonious strain, As 'twere a lover's voice that pines and wastes for love in vain. Woe's me for those that lovers be! How many a weary night, For love and anguish and desire, to waken they are fain! 'Twould seem as if they had no part in morning or in sleep, For all the stress of love and woe that holds their heart and brain. When I became distraught for her I love and wistfulness Bound me in fetters strait, the tears from out mine eyes did rain So thick and fast, they were as chains, and I to her did say, "My tears have fallen so thick, that now they've bound me with a chain." The treasures of my patience fail, absence is long on me And yearning sore; and passion's stress consumeth me amain. If God's protection cover me and Fortune be but just And Fate with her whom I adore unite me once again, I'll doff my clothes, that she may see how worn my body is, For languishment and severance and solitary pain.

Then he went on to the fourth cage, where he found a nightingale, which, at sight of him, began to tune its plaintive note. When he heard its descant, he burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

The nightingale's note, when the dawning is near, Distracts from the lute-strings the true lover's ear. Complaineth, for love-longing, Uns el Wujoud, Of a passion that blotteth his being out sheer. How many sweet notes, that would soften, for mirth, The hardness of iron and stone, do I hear! The zephyr of morning brings tidings to me Of meadows, full-flower'd for the blossoming year. The scents on the breeze and the music of birds, In the dawning, transport me with joyance and cheer. But I think of a loved one, that's absent from me, And mine eyes rain in torrents, with tear upon tear; And the ardour of longing flames high in my breast, As a fire in the heart of a brasier burns clear. May Allah vouchsafe to a lover distraught To see and foregather once more with his dear! Yea, for lovers, heart-sickness and longing and woe And wake are excuses that plainly appear.

Then he went on a little and came to a handsome cage, than which there was no goodlier there, and in it a culver, that is to Say, a wood-pigeon, the bird renowned among the birds as the singer of love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck, wonder-goodly of ordinance. He considered it awhile and seeing it mazed and brooding in its cage, shed tears and repeated these verses:

O culver of the copse, may peace upon thee light, O friend of all who love and every wistful wight! I love a young gazelle, a slender one, whose glance Than sharpest sabre's point is keener and more bright. For love of her, my heart and entrails are a-fire And sicknesses consume my body and my spright. The sweet of pleasant food's forbidden unto me, And eke I am denied the taste of sleep's delight. Solace and fortitude have taken flight from me, And love and longing lodge with me, both day and night. How shall my life be sweet to me, while she's afar, That is my life, my wish, the apple of my sight?

When the pigeon heard these verses, it awoke from its brooding and cooed and warbled and trilled, till it all but spoke; and the tongue of the case interpreted for it and recited the following verses:

O lover, thy wailings recall to my mind The time when my youth from me wasted and dwined, And A mistress, whose charms and whose grace I adored, Seductive and fair over all of her kind; Whose voice, from the twigs of the sandhill upraised, Left the strains of the flute, to my thought, far behind. A snare set the fowler and caught me, who cried, "Would he d leave me to range at my will on the wind!" I had hoped he was clement or seeing that I Was a lover, would pity my lot and be kind; But no, (may God smite him!) he tore me away From my dear and apart from her harshly confined. Since then, my desire for her grows without cease, And my heart with the fires of disjunction is mined. God guard a true lover, who striveth with love And hath suffered the torments in which I have pined! When he seeth me languish for love in my cage, He will loose me, in mercy, my loved one to find

Then Uns el Wujoud turned to his friend, the Ispahani and said to him, 'What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in it?' Quoth the eunuch, 'The Vizier of King Shamikh built it for his daughter, fearing for her the assaults of fate and the vicissitudes of fortune, and lodged her therein, with her attendants; nor do we open it save once in every year, when our victual comes to us.' And Uns el Wujoud said in himself, 'I have gained my end' though after long travail.'

Meanwhile, Rose-in-bud took no delight in eating nor drinking, sitting nor sleeping; but her transport and passion and love-longing redoubled on her, and she went wandering about the castle, but could find no issue; wherefore she shed plenteous tears and recited the following verses:

They have prisoned me straitly from him I adore And given me to eat of mine anguish galore. My heart with the flames of love-longing they fired, When me from the sight of my loved one they bore. They have cloistered me close in a palace built high On a mount in the midst of a sea without shore. If they'd have me forget, their endeavour is vain, For my love but redoubles upon me the more. How can I forget him, when all I endure Arose from the sight of his face heretofore? My days are consumed in lament, and my nights Pass in thinking of him, as I knew him of yore. His memory my solace in solitude is, Since the lack of his presence I needs must deplore. I wonder, will Fate grant my heart its desire And my love, after all, to my wishes restore!

Then she donned her richest clothes and trinkets and threw a necklace of jewels around her neck; after which she ascended to the roof of the castle and tying some strips of Baalbek stuff together, [to serve for a rope], made them fast to the battlements and let herself down thereby to the ground. Then she fared on over wastes and wilds, till she came to the sea-shore, where she saw a fishing-boat, and therein a fisherman, whom the wind had driven on to the island, as he went, fishing here and there, on the sea. When he saw her, he was affrighted, [ taking her for a Jinniyeh] and put out again to sea; but she cried out and made pressing signs to him to return, reciting the following verses:

Harkye, O fisherman, fear thou no injury; I'm but an earthly maid, a mortal like to thee. I do implore thee, stay, give ear unto my prayer And hearken to my true and woeful history. Pity, (so God thee spare,) the ardour [of my love,] And say if thou hast seen a loved one, fled from me. I love a fair-faced youth and goodly; brighter far Of aspect than the face of sun or moon is he. The antelope, that sees his glances, cries, "His slave Am I," and doth confess inferiority. Yea, beauty on his brow these pregnant words hath writ In very dust of musk, significant to see, "Who sees the light of love is in the way of right, And he who strays commits foul sin and heresy." An thou have ruth on me and bring me to his sight, O rare! Whate'er thou wilt thy recompense shall be; Rubies and precious stones and freshly gathered pearls And every kind of gem that is in earth and sea. Surely, O friend, thou wilt with my desire comply; For all my heart's on fire with love and agony.

When the fisherman heard this, he wept and sighed and lamented; then, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his youth, when love had the mastery over him and transport and love-longing and distraction were sore upon him and the fires of passion consumed him, replied with these verses:

Indeed, the lover's excuse is manifest, Wasting of body and streaming tears, unrest, Eyes, in the darkness that waken still, and heart, As 'twere a fire-box, bespeak him love-oppress. Passion, indeed, afflicted me in youth, And I good money from bad learnt then to test. My soul I bartered, a distant love to win; To gain her favours, I wandered East and West; And eke I ventured my life against her grace And deemed the venture would bring me interest. For law of lovers it is that whoso buys His love's possession with life, he profits best.

Then he moored his boat to the shore and bade her embark, saying, 'I will carry thee whither thou wilt.' So she embarked and he put off with her; but they had not gone far, before there came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly out of sight of land. The fisherman knew not whither he went, and the wind blew without ceasing three days, at the end of which time it fell, by leave of God the Most High, and they sailed on, till they came in sight of a city builded upon the seashore, and the fisherman set about making fast to the land.

Now the King of the city, a very powerful prince called Dirbas, was at that moment sitting, with his son, at a window in the palace giving upon the sea, and chancing to look out to sea-ward, they saw the fishing-boat enter the harbour. They observed it narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she were the full moon in the mid-heaven, with pendants in her ears of fine balass rubies and a collar of precious stones about her neck. So the King knew that this must be the daughter of some king or great noble, and going forth of the sea-gate of the palace, went down to the boat, where he found the lady asleep and the fisherman busied in making fast to the shore. He went up to her and aroused her, whereupon she awoke, weeping; and he said to her, 'Whence comest thou and whose daughter art thou and what brings thee hither?' 'I am the daughter of Ibrahim, Vizier to King Shamikh,' answered she; 'and the manner of my coming hither is strange and the cause thereof extraordinary.' And she told him her whole story, hiding nought from him; then she sighed deeply and recited the following verses:

Tears have mine eyelids wounded sore, and wonder-fast they flow Adown my cheek for parting's pain and memory and woe, For a beloved's sake, who dwells for ever in my heart, Though to foregather with himself I cannot win, heigho! Fair, bright and brilliant is his face, in loveliness and grace, Turk, Arab and barbarian he cloth indeed o'ercrow. The full moon and the sun contend in deference to him, And when he rises into sight, they, lover-like, bend low. His eyes with wondrous witchery are decked, as 'twere with kohl; Even as a bow, that's bent to shoot its shafts, to thee they show. O thou, to whom I have perforce revealed my case, have ruth On one with whom the shifts of love have sported long eno'. Lo, broken-hearted, Love hath cast me up upon thy coast, Wherefore I trust that thou on me fair favour wilt bestow. The noble who, when folk of worth alight within their bounds, Do honour and protect them, win increase of glory so. Cover thou then, my lord, my hope, two lovers' follies up And let them to thy succouring hand their loves' reunion owe.

Then she shed plenteous tears and recited these verses also:

I lived, a marvel till I saw in love, then lived no mo'; Each month to thee as Rejeb[FN#81] be, as free from fear of foe! Is it not strange that, on the morn they went away, I lit Fire in my vitals with the tears that from mine eyes did flow? Indeed, mine eyelids ran with blood, and on the wasted plain Of my sad cheek, that therewithal was watered, gold did grow. Yea, for the safflower hue, that thence o'erspread my cheeks, they seem The shirt of Joseph, steeped in blood, to make a lying show.

When the King heard this, he was certified of her passion and love-longing and was moved to compassion for her; so he said to her, 'Fear nothing and be not troubled; thou hast attained the term of thy wishes; for needs must I bring thee to thy desire.' And he recited the following verses:

Daughter if nobles, thou hast reached thy wishes' goal, I trow: In happy presage then rejoice and fear not any woe. Treasures this very day, will I collect and neath escort Of horsemen and of champions, to Shamikh they shall go. Brocade and bladders full of musk I will to him despatch And eke white silver and red gold I'll send to him also. Yea, and a letter neath my hand my wish for ties of kin And for alliance with himself shall give him eke to know; And all endeavour will I use, forthwith, that he thou lov'st Once more with thee may be conjoined, to part from thee no mo. I, too, have battened upon love and know the taste thereof And can excuse the folk who've quaffed the self-same cup of woe.

Then, returning to his palace, he summoned his Vizier and causing pack him up countless treasure, bade him carry it to King Shamikh and say to him, 'The King is minded to ally himself with thee by marrying Uns el Wujoud, shine officer, to his daughter. So needs must thou send him with me, that the marriage may be solemnized in her father's kingdom.' And he wrote a letter to King Shamikh, to this effect, and gave it to the Vizier, charging him without fail bring back Uns el Wujoud, on pain of deposition from his office. 'I hear and obey,' answered the Vizier and setting out forthright, in due course arrived at the court of King Shamikh, to whom he delivered the letter and presents, saluting him in the name of King Dirbas. When Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns el Wujoud, he burst into tears and said to the Vizier, 'And where is Uns el Wujoud? He went away, and we know not his place of abiding. Bring him to me, and I will give thee the sum of the presents thou hast brought me, twice told.' And he wept and sighed and groaned, reciting the following verses:

Him whom I loved to me restore; By gold and gifts I set no store. Nor do I crave largesse, indeed, Of pearls and gems and precious ore. As 'twere a moon at full, for us, In beauty's heaven he did soar. Passing in wit and grace, gazelles With him comparison gave o'er. His shape was as a willow-wand, For fruits that sweet seductions bore; But in the willow, to enslave The hearts of men, there is no lore. I reared him from a child upon The bed of fondness evermore; And now I am at heart distraught For him and sorrow passing sore.

Then said he to the Vizier, 'Go back to thy master and tell him that Uns el Wujoud has been missing this year past, and his lord knoweth not whither he is gone nor hath any news of him.' 'O my lord,' answered King Dirbas's Vizier, 'my master said to me, "An thou come back without him, thou shalt be ousted from the Vizierate and shall not enter my city." How then can I return without him?' So King Shamikh said to his Vizier Ibrahim, 'Take a company and go with him and make search for Uns el Wujoud everywhere.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Ibrahim, and taking a company of his own retainers, set out in quest of Uns el Wujoud, accompanied by King Dirbas's Vizier; and as often as they fell in with Bedouins or others, they enquired at them of Uns el Wujoud, saying, 'Have ye seen a man, whose name is so and so and his favour thus and thus?' But they answered, 'We know him not.'

So they fared on, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in hill and plain and desert and wold, till they came to the sea-shore, where they took ship and sailed, till they came to the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and King Dirbas's Vizier said to Ibrahim, 'Why is this mountain thus called?' 'There was once of old time,' answered the other Vizier, 'a Jinniych, of the Jinn of China, who fell passionately in love with a man and being in fear of her own people, searched all the earth for a place, where she might hide him from them, till she happened on this mountain and finding it inaccessible both to men and Jinn, carried off her beloved and lodged him therein. There she used to visit him privily, till she had borne him a number of children, and the merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their voyages over the sea, heard the weeping of the children, as it were the wailing of a woman who had lost her young, and said, "Is there here a mother bereaved of her children?" For which reason the place was named the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother.' And King Dirbas's Vizier marvelled at this.

Then they landed and making for the castle, knocked at the gate, which was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Vizier Ibrahim and kissed his hands. Ibrahim entered and finding in the courtyard, among the serving men, a man in the habit of a fakir,[FN#82] said. 'Whence comes yonder fellow?' Quoth they, 'He is a merchant, who hath lost his goods by shipwreck, but saved himself on a plank; and he is an ecstatic.'[FN#83] Now this was none other than Uns el Wujoud, [but the Vizier knew him not]; so he left him and went on into the castle. He found there no trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who answered, 'She abode with us but a little while and went away, how and whither we know not.' Whereupon he wept sore and repeated the following verses:

O house, whose birds warbled for joyance whilere And whose sills were resplendent with glory and pride, Till the lover came to thee, bemooning himself For his passion, and found thy doors open and wide, Would I knew where my soul is, my soul that was late In a house, where its masters no longer abide! Therein were all things that are costly and rich And with suits of brocade it was decked, like a bride. Yea, happy and honoured its doorkeeper were. Would God I knew whither its mistress hath tried!

Then he wept and sighed and bemoaned himself, exclaiming, 'There is no resource against the ordinance of God neither is there any escape from that which He hath decreed!' Then he went up to the roof and finding the strips of Baalbek stuff tied to the battlements and hanging down to the ground, knew that she had descended thence and had fled forth, as one distracted and mad with passion. Presently, he turned and seeing there two birds, an owl and a raven, deemed this an ill omen; so he groaned and recited these verses: