One Thousand and One Nights, page 411
The evil-doer I’ll requite with that which he deserves Who frowardly to her draws near, on her enjoyment bent!
When Zein el Mewasif heard this, she trembled in every nerve and said to her handmaid, ‘Heardest thou that?’ Quoth she, ‘I never heard him recite the like of these verses; but let him say what he will.’ Then the Jew, having assured himself of the truth of his suspicions, began to sell all his property, saying in himself, ‘Except I remove her from her native land [and separate them], they will never turn back from this that they are engaged in.’ So, when he had turned all his possessions into money, he forged a letter, purporting to come from his kinsmen and inviting him to visit them, him and his wife, and read it to her. ‘How long shall we tarry with them?’ asked she, and he replied, ‘Twelve days.’ So she consented to this and said, ‘Shall I take any of my maids with me?’ ‘Take Huboub and Sukoub,’ answered he, ‘and leave Khutoub here.’
Then he made ready a handsome camel litter for his wife and her women and prepared to set out with them; whilst she sent to Mesrour, telling him what had happened and saying, ‘If the trysting-time that is between us pass and I come not [back], know that he hath put a cheat on us and laid a plot to separate us from each other; so forget thou not the plighted faith betwixt us, for I fear his craft and perfidy.’ Then she fell a-weeping and lamenting and no peace was left her, night or day. Her husband saw this, but took no note thereof; and when she saw there was no help for it, she gathered together her clothes and gear and deposited them with her sister, telling her what had befallen her. Then she took leave of her and going out from her, weeping, returned to her own house, where she found her husband had brought the camels and was busy loading them, having set apart the handsomest for her riding; and when she saw this and knew that needs must she be separated from Mesrour, she was distracted.
Now it chanced that the Jew went out on some occasion of his; so she went forth to the outer door and wrote thereon the following verses:
O dove of this our dwelling-place, our parting greeting bear From lover to beloved one and tell him I shall ne’er
Cease to regret the past delight and all its ravishments And all the sweetness of the days for us whilom that were;
And bid him also never leave to be the slave of love, Fulfilled of grief for our content that’s past and gone for e’er.
Indeed, we passed our time awhile in solace and in cheer And love-delight both night and day we did enjoy whilere;
But, when we woke, the raven gave us morrow with his croak And did against us twain the doom of severance declare.
Now must we journey far away and leave the dwellings void: Would we might ne’er depart the lands nor breathe a foreign air!
Then she went to the second door and wrote thereon the following verses:
O thou to this door that comest, by Allah, watch for the grace Of my loved one midmost the darkness and tell him I weep apace,
When I think of the time of union with him, and the tears that come Of my weeping for him cease never to ripple adown my face;
And say to him, ‘If no patience for what is fallen on me Thou findest, I rede thee sprinkle thy head with the dust of the place
And travel the lands to Eastward and Westward and look thou live In patience, for God hath ordered and yet will order the case.’
Then she went to the third door and wept sore and wrote thereon these verses:
Harkye, Mesrour, an if thou come to this her dwelling, see Thou read upon the doors the lines that she hath writ for thee.
How oft thou’st tasted of the sweet and bitter of the nights! Forget thou not the pact of love, if thou a true man be.
By Allah, do not thou forget her neighbourhood, Mesrour; For in thyself her solace all and gladness leaveth she!
Weep for the days of love-delight and all their sweets and all The goodly nights that with their shade encurtained thee and me;
And to the farthest of the lands, for my sake, journey thou; Search all its deserts after us and plunge into its sea.
The nights of our delight are gone from us; estrangement’s dark Hath quenched their radiance and made an end of all our glee.
God’s blessing on the bygone days! How glad indeed they were,When in the gardens of desire their blossoms gathered we!
We would have had them stay; but God denied the wished-for boon; Only their rose and our true hearts to last permitted He.
Will the returning days renew our union? An they do, Their every vow unto my Lord accomplished then shall be.
Think, in His hand, who writes upon the table of the brows Their lines, are all things, and submit to that He doth decree.
Then she wept sore and returned to the house, lamenting and recalling what had passed and saying, ‘Glory be to God who hath decreed this to us!’ And her affliction redoubled for the loss of her beloved and her departure from the lands, and she recited these verses:
Upon thee be the peace of God, O empty house! Ah me, The days indeed have made an end of all their cheer in thee!
Dove of the house, ne’er mayst thou leave to mourn for her who from Her moons and her full moons is torn by Fate’s unkind decree!
Harkye, Mesrour! Make thou thy moan for loss of us; indeed Mine eyes in losing thee have lost their lustre, verily.
Would God thine eyes our parting day and eke the flaming fire, That in my heart redoubles still unquenchably, might see!
Forget not thou our plighted troth within the garden’s shade, That held our loves and with its veils encurtained thee and me.
Then she presented herself before her husband, who set her in the litter he had let make for her; and when she found herself on the camel’s back, she recited the following verses:
God’s peace on thee, O lonely house, for evermore alight, Wherein whilere we fed our fill of solace and delight!
Would that my time within thy shade its nights accomplished had, So I for passion had been slain, a martyr in Love’s right!
For parting I am sore concerned and longing for the home I love: I knew not what should hap nor looked for Fate’s despite.
Would God I knew if I shall e’er return to it again, And will it ever, as of yore, be pleasant to our spright!
‘O Zein el Mewasif,’ said her husband, ‘grieve not for thy departure from thy dwelling; for, God willing, thou shalt return to it before long.’ And he went on to comfort her heart and soothe her. Then they set out and fared on till they came without the town and struck into the high road, whereupon she knew that separation was assured, and this was grievous to her.
Meanwhile, Mesrour sat in his house, pondering his case and that of his mistress, and his heart forewarned him of separation. So he rose forthright and repairing to her house, found the outer door shut and read the verses she had written thereon; whereupon he fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he opened the door and entering, read what was written upon the two other doors; whereupon passion and love-longing and distraction waxed on him. So he went forth and hastened in her track, till he came up with the caravan and found her at the rear, whilst her husband rode in the van, because of his goods. When he saw her, he clung to the litter, weeping and lamenting for the anguish of separation, and recited the following verses:
Would I knew for what crime we are shot, wellaway! With the shafts of estrangement for ever and aye!
O desire of the heart, to thy dwelling I came, When distress for thy love sorely irked me, one day,
And I found the house empty, laid waste, and complained Of estrangement and groaned, in my spirit’s dismay,
Then I questioned the walls of my loves that are gone And have taken my heart as a pledge, ‘Where are they?’
And they said, ‘They made passion in ambush to lie In the entrails and fared from the dwellings away.’
They wrote for me lines on the portals, the deed Of the folk that keep faith nor their troth-plight betray.
When Zein el Mewasif heard this, she knew that it was Mesrour and wept, she and her maidens, and said to him, ‘I conjure thee by Allah, O Mesrour, turn back, lest my husband see us!’ At these words he swooned away; and when he revived, they took leave of each other and he recited the following verses:
The chief of the caravan to depart calls loud and high, In the darkness ere the dawn, and the zephyr wafts the cry,
They gird their burdens on and hasten to depart, And on, at the leader’s voice, the caravan doth hie.
They perfume the lands, through which they journey, on every side, And still through the valley’s midst their travel in haste they ply.
Possession they took of my soul in passion and fared away And left me to toil in vain in the track of their passing by.
Beloved, I purposed indeed to part with you never in life And the earth is drenched with the tears that flow from the wanderer’s eye.
Alack! How hath parting’s hand with mine entrails wroughten! Woe’s me For my heart! Since my loves are gone, it irketh me like to die.
Then he clung to the litter, weeping and lamenting, whilst she besought him to turn back ere morning, for fear of discovery. So he came up to her and bidding her farewell a second time, fell down in a swoon. He lay a great while without life, and when he came to himself, he found the caravan out of sight. So he turned in the direction of their travel and inhaled the breeze that blew from their quarter, chanting the following verses:
No wind of nearness to the lover’s blown But of the pains of longing he makes moan.
The breeze of dawning blows on him; he wakes And in the world he finds himself alone.
Blood, mingled with his streaming tears, he weeps, For languor on the bed of sickness prone;
For loved ones lost he weeps; his heart with them Fares midst the camels over sand and stone.
No breeze blows from their quarter but I stand, With eyes attent and nostrils open thrown,
And on the South wind snuff their musky gale, Whose scent is grateful to the lover lone.
Then he returned, mad with love-longing, to her house, and finding it empty and deserted, wept till he wet his clothes; after which he swooned away and his soul was like to depart his body. When he revived, he recited the following couplet:
O house, on my abjection have ruth and on my plight, My tears for ever flowing and body wasted quite,
And waft me the aroma of their sweet-scented breeze, So haply with its fragrance it heal my anguished spright.
Then he returned to his own house and abode there, confounded and tearful-eyed, for the space of ten days.
Meanwhile, the Jew journeyed on with Zein el Mewasif half a score days, at the end of which time he halted at a certain city and she wrote to Mesrour a letter and gave it to Huboub, saying, ‘Send this to Mesrour, so he may know how we have been tricked and how the Jew hath cheated us.’ So Huboub despatched it to Mesrour, whom when it reached, its news was grievous to him and he wept till he wet the ground. Then he wrote a reply and sent it to his mistress, subscribing it with the following couplets:
Where is the road unto the doors of solace? How shall he, Who’s all for love-longing on flames of fire consoléd be?
How pleasant were the days of yore, that now are past away! Ah would some scantling of their times were yet with thee and me!
When the letter reached Zein el Mewasif, she read it and gave it to her maid Huboub, bidding her keep it secret. However, the Jew came to know of their correspondence and removed with her to another city, at a distance of twenty days’ journey.
As for Mesrour, sleep was not sweet to him nor was peace or patience left unto him, and he ceased not to be thus till, one night, his eyes closed for weariness and he dreamt that he saw Zein el Mewasif come to him in the garden and embrace him; but presently he awoke and found her not: whereupon he fell into a passion of grief. His reason fled and his eyes ran over with tears; love-longing to the utterest possessed his heart and he recited these verses:
Peace be on her, whose image came to visit me by night And passion straight in me renewed and longings did excite!
Indeed, from that my dream I rose, distracted with desire, Fulfilled of love and longing pain for that fair vision’s sight.
Do the imbroglios of sleep say sooth of her I love? Will she let quench my thirst and heal the sickness of my spright?
Anon she spoke with me, anon she strained me to her breast And now with pleasant speech she soothed my pain and my affright;
And when our lovers’ chiding was accomplished in the dream And in unceasing floods, the tears streamed from mine eyes contrite,
From out her damask lips, for me, as ‘twere the best of wine, Whose scent was as the scent of musk, she poured, that lady bright.
I marvel at what chanced ‘twixt us in dreams; for lo! I got My wish of her and that I sought of solace and delight;
But, when from sleep I woke, no whit of that fair dream found I Save love-longing and pain; the rest had fled with morning-light.
And since I’ve looked on her, I’m grown, by day, as I were mad; Anights I’m drunken without wine, a lone-distracted wight.
O waftings of the zephyr, go, to them I prithee bear The salutation of my love and longing for their sight,
And say to them, ‘Him, whom ye knew, the shifts of sorry Fate Have given to drink the cup of death, of destiny’s despite.’
Then he went out and ceased not to weep till he came to her house and looking on it, saw it deserted. Presently, it seemed to him he saw her image before him, whereupon fires flamed in him and his sorrows redoubled and he fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he recited the following verses:
I snuff the scent of balm from them, wherewith the air is fraught And fare away, with heart fulfilled of passion, love-distraught.
A miserable slave of love, my longings with the sight Of dwellings, void of all their charms, to salve in vain I’ve sought.
It doth but sicken me for woe and severance and desire And all the past-time with my friends recalleth to my thought.
When he had made an end of these verses, he heard a raven croak beside the house and wept, saying, ‘Glory be to God! The raven croaks not save over a ruined house.’ Then he sighed and groaned and recited the following verses:
What aileth the raven to croon o’er the house of my love? As I hear, The fires in my bosom rage high; their burning my entrails doth sear,
For regret for the days of their love, bygone; my heart wanders, for woe, In the mountains of misery lost, distracted with passion and fear.
I die of love-longing; the flames of desire in my liver still rage, And letters I write, which, alas! I have none to convey to my dear.
Alas for my body worn waste and my sorrow! My loved one is gone. Will they ever, I wonder, return, her nights, with their solace and cheer?
O breeze of the East, in the dawn if thou visit the camp of her tribe, Salute her, I prithee, for me, and stay by her stead thy career.
Now Zein el Mewasif had a sister, by name Nesim, who was looking on him from a high p1ace; and when she saw him in this plight, she wept and sighed and recited these verses:
Harkye! How oft, bewailing the steads, wilt come and go? Indeed, the house its builder bemoaneth, of its woe.
Gladness, ere they departed who did inhabit here, Was rife within the dwelling and suns in it did glow.
Where are the full moons vanished, that shone so bright? The shifts Of fate their lucent beauties have blotted out, I trow
Leave what is past of fair ones, with whom thou didst consort: Mayhap, the days, returning, them forth again will show:
Except for thee, its dwellers had not departed hence Nor thou in its high places hadst seen the corby-crow.
When Mesrour heard these verses and apprehended their meaning, he wept sore. Now Nesim knew that which was between him and her sister of love and longing and passion; so she said to him, ‘God on thee, O Mesrour, forbear this house, lest any see thee and deem thou comest on my account! Thou hast caused my sister depart and now thou wouldst drive me also away. Thou knowest that, but for thee, the house would not now be void of its inhabitants: so be consoled for her and leave her; for what is past is past.’ When he heard this, he said to her, ‘O Nesim, if I could, I should fly for longing after her; so how can I be comforted for her?’ Quoth she, ‘Thou hast nothing for it but patience.’ And he said, ‘I beseech thee, for God’s sake, write me a letter to her, as from thyself, and get me an answer from her, to comfort my heart and quench the fire that rages in my vitals.’
‘With all my heart,’ answered she and took inkhorn and paper, whilst Mesrour began to set out to her the violence of his longing and what he suffered for the anguish of separation, saying, ‘This letter is from the despairing and sorrowful lover, the wretched bereaved one, with whom no peace abides, night nor day, but he still weeps copious tears. Indeed, tears have ulcerated his eyelids and his sorrows have kindled a fire in his liver. His lamentation is prolonged and restlessness is sore on him, as he were a bird that hath lost its mate, and his death is at hand. Alas, my desolation for the loss of thee and my yearning affliction for thy companionship! Indeed, emaciation hath wasted my body and my tears are become a torrent; mountains and plains are straitened upon me, and of the excess of my passion, I go, saying:
My yearning o’er this stead’s eternal and my pain, And longings for its folk still wax on me amain.
I send to you my tale of love; the cupbearer Still giveth me the cup of love for you to drain.
And for your faring hence and absence from the lands, With everstreaming tears my wounded eyelids rain.
O litter-leader, stay; turn back with the belov’d; For all my heart’s afire with flames that never wane.
My greeting to my love bear thou and say to her, “There’s nought but damask lips his sorrows can assain.
Time bore him off and rent his loves apart and cleft His entrails with a shaft of severance in twain.”
Give them to know of all my transport for their loss And what I bear for love and longing all in vain.
Yea, by the love of you, I swear I will fulfil The covenant of love, whatever Fate ordain.
