Chapter XIV: Part 14

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

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

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

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

And quoth another in these couplets,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And also these two couplets,

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

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

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

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

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventieth Night,

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

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

Or as saith one of the poets,

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

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

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

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

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

And how well saith another,

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

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

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

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

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

And said he likewise of his yard,

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

And again quoth he thereof of his yard,

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

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

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

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

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

And how goodly is the saying of the poet,

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

And yet goodlier is the saying of another,

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

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

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

And how excellent is the saying of the poet,

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

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

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

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

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

And quoth another poet,

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

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

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

And saith another on the same theme,

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

And another on a similar subject,

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

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

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

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

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

And quoth another,[FN#468]

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

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

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

And how well saith another bard,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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