betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, "Thou favouredst us aforetime with the wine; so now complete thy favours and look me out a thing called a lute, to wit, an instrument for singing; for that she seeketh this of me and I know it not" "Hearkening and obedience," replied the Jew and going into his house, brought him a lute. [The old man took it and carried it to Sitt el Milah,] whilst the Jew took his drink and sat by a window adjoining the other's house, so he might hear the singing.

The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang the following verses:

After your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, Did not the hope of union some whit my strength sustain. Ye're gone and desolated by your absence is the world: Requital, ay, or substitute to seek for you 'twere vain. Ye, of your strength, have burdened me, upon my weakliness, With burdens not to be endured of mountain nor of plain. When from your land the breeze I scent that cometh, as I were A reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I'm fain. Love no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain. I wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a camp I come, I'm told, "They've fared away again." My friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till presently sleep overcame her and she slept.

On the morrow, she said to the old man, "Get thee to the money-changer and fetch me the ordinary." So he repaired to the money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made ready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man returned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When she had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and fetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and chanted the following verses:

How long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe? I'm mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow. They have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!

And when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.

All this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he likened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put away from him this thought, and the damsel had no whit of knowledge of him. Then she broke out again into song and chanted the following verses:

"Forget him," quoth my censurers, "forget him; what is he?" "If I forget him, ne'er may God," quoth I, "remember me!" Now God forbid a slave forget his liege lord's love! And how Of all things in the world should I forget the love of thee? Pardon of God for everything I crave, except thy love, For on the day of meeting Him, that will my good deed be.

Then she drank three cups and filling the old man other three, sang the following verses:

His love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy, For the heat of a red-hot coal that 'twixt his ribs did lie. Suppose for distraction he seek in the Spring and its blooms one day, The face of his loved one holds the only Spring for his eye. O blamer of me for the love of him who denieth his grace, Which be the delightsome of things, but those which the people deny? A sun [is my love;] but his heat in mine entrails still rageth, concealed; A moon, in the hearts of the folk he riseth, and not in the sky.

When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept, whilst the old man wept for her weeping. Then she fell down in a swoon and presently coming to herself, filled the cup and drinking it off, gave the old man to drink, after which she took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted the following verses:

Thy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes; My case it hath altered and banished repose. The world is upon me all desolate grown. Alack, my long grief and forlornness! Who knows But the Merciful yet may incline thee to me And unite us again, in despite of our foes!

Then she wept till her voice rose high and her lamentation was discovered [to those without]; after which she again began to drink and plying the old man with wine, sang the following verses:

They have shut out thy person from my sight; They cannot shut thy memory from my spright. Favour or flout me, still my soul shall be Thy ransom, in contentment or despite. My outward of my inward testifies And this bears witness that that tells aright.[FN#39]

When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept and lamented. Then she slept awhile and presently awaking, said, "O elder, hast thou what we may eat?" "O my lady," answered the old man, "there is the rest of the food;" but she said, "I will not eat of a thing I have left. Go down to the market and fetch us what we may eat." Quoth he, "Excuse me, O my lady; I cannot stand up, for that I am overcome with wine; but with me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an intelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee that which thou desirest." "Whence hast thou this servant?" asked she; and he replied, "He is of the people of Damascus." When she heard him speak of the people of Damascus, she gave a sob, that she swooned away; and when she came to herself, she said, "Woe's me for the people of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O elder, that he may do our occasions."

So the old man put his head forth of the window and called the youth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave [to enter]. The Muezzin bade him enter, and when he came in to the damsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in bewilderment and would have fled; but she sprang up to him and seized him, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell down on the ground in a swoon. When the old man saw them in this plight, he feared for himself and fled forth, seeing not the way for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and said to him, "How comes it that I see thee confounded?" "How should I not be confounded," answered the old man, "seeing that the damsel who is with me is fallen in love with the servant of the mosque and they have embraced and fallen down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the Khalif come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou what is to be done in this wherewith I am afflicted of the affair of this damsel." Quoth the Jew, "For the nonce, take this casting-bottle of rose-water and go forth-right and sprinkle them therewith. If they be aswoon for this their foregathering and embracement, they will come to themselves, and if otherwise, do thou flee."

The old man took the casting-bottle from the Jew and going up to Noureddin and the damsel, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they came to themselves and fell to relating to each other that which they had suffered, since their separation, for the anguish of severance. Moreover, Noureddin acquainted Sitt el Milah with that which he had endured from the folk who would have slain him and made away with him; and she said to him, "O my lord, let us presently give over this talk and praise God for reunion of loves, and all this shall cease from us." Then she gave him the cup and he said, "By Allah, I will nowise drink it, whilst I am in this plight!" So she drank it off before him and taking the lute, swept the strings and sang the following verses:

Thou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst bide, Thou wast removed from mine eye, yet still wast by my side. Thou left'st unto me, after thee, languor and carefulness; I lived a life wherein no jot of sweetness I espied. For thy sweet sake, as 'twere, indeed, an exile I had been, Lone and deserted I became, lamenting, weeping-eyed. Alack, my grief! Thou wast, indeed, grown absent from my yiew, Yet art the apple of mine eye nor couldst from me divide.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept and Noureddin wept also. Then she took the lute and improvised and sang the following verses:

God knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, But still with brimming tears straightway mine eyes were fraught; Yea, passion raged in me and love-longing was like To slay me; yet my heart to solace still it wrought. Light of mine eyes, my hope, my wish, my thirsting eyes With looking on thy face can never sate their drought.

When Noureddin heard these his slave-girl's verses, he fell a-weeping, what while she strained him to her bosom and wiped away his tears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted his mind. Then she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played thereon, after such a wise as would move the phlegmatic to delight, and sang the following verses:

Whenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day As of my life I do not reckon aye; And when I long to look upon thy face, My life is perished with desire straightway.

On this wise they abode till the morning, tasting not the savour of sleep; and when the day lightened, behold, the eunuch came with the mule and said to Sitt el Milah, "The Commander of the Faithful calleth for thee." So she arose and taking her lord by the hand, committed him to the old man, saying, "I commend him to thy care, under God,[FN#40] till this eunuch cometh to thee; and indeed, O elder, I owe thee favour and largesse such as filleth the interspace betwixt heaven and earth."

Then she mounted the mule and repairing to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful, went in to him and kissed the earth before him. Quoth he to her, as who should make mock of her, "I doubt not but thou hast found thy lord." "By thy felicity and the length of thy continuance [on life,]" answered she, "I have