But God, to whose aid I ascribe my success,
Had of old decreed these events to occur.
For thy sake their pardon I grant; and I would
If their lances had made my life-blood to pour.
To withdraw myself hence, and sever the ties
Of affection and love, is a trial sore.
While I live I shall constantly wish thee peace,
And joy uninterrupted for evermore.”
Having said thus, El-Gundub′ah took leave of his foster-mother, and departed alone, and went to the fortress of Shamta[Shamta] elsewh.]. The slaves saw him approach; and met him: and, in reply to their inquiries, he informed them of all that had just befallen him. He then asked if any of them were willing to go with him in search of a better territory, where they might intercept the caravans, and subsist by plunder; and they all declaring their readiness to accompany him, he chose from among them as many as he desired, and left the rest in the fortress. He travelled with his slaves until they came to a desolate and dreary tract, without verdure or water; and the slaves, fearing that they should die of thirst, conspired against his life: but El-Gundub′ah, perceiving their discontent, and guessing their intention, pressed on to a tract abounding with water and pasture; and here they halted to rest. El-Gundub′ah watched until all of them had fallen asleep; and then despatched them, every one, with his sword. Having done this, he pursued his journey during the night; and in the morning he arrived at a valley with verdant sides, and abundance of pasture, with lofty trees, and rapid streams, and birds whose notes proclaimed the praises of the Lord of Power and Eternity. In the midst of this valley he saw a Bedawee tent, and a lance stuck by it in the ground, and a horse picketed. The Emeer Gundub′ah fixed his eyes upon this tent; and as he looked at it, there came forth from it a person of elegant appearance, completely armed, who bounded upon the horse, and galloped towards him, without uttering a word to engage him in combat. “My brother!” exclaimed El-Gundub′ah, “begin with salutation before the stroke of the sword; for that is a principle in the nature of the noble.” But no answer was returned. They fought until their spears were broken, and till their swords were jagged: at length El-Gundub′ah seized hold of the vest beneath his antagonist’s coat of mail, and heaved its wearer from the saddle to the ground. He uplifted his sword; but a voice, so sweet, it would have cured the sick, exclaimed, “Have mercy on thy captive, O hero of the age!” “Art thou a man?” said El-Gundub′ah, “or a woman?” “I am a virgin damsel,” she replied: and drawing away her “litám,”[[516]] displayed a face like the moon at the full. When El-Gundub′ah beheld the beauty of her face, and the elegance of her form, he was bewildered, and overpowered with love. He exclaimed, “O mistress of beauties, and star of the morn, and life of souls! acquaint me with thy secret, and inform me of the truth of thy history.” She replied, “O hero of our time! O hero of the age and period! shall I relate to thee my story in narrative prose, or in measured verse?” He said, “O beauty of thine age, and peerless-one of thy time! I will hear nothing from thee but measured verse.” She then thus related to him all that had happened to her:—
“O thou noble hero, and generous knight!