My cloak acts sword, my heart’s perplext with fright, ✿ Lest jealous hostile eyes th’ approach descry:
Till sudden hapt I on a delicate maid ✿ Like desert-doe that fails her fawns to espy.
Quoth the Caliph, “Thou hast done well, O damsel! whose are these lines?” She answered, “Written by Amru bin Ma’di Karib al-Zubaydi,[[216]] and the air is Ma’abid’s.”[[217]] Then the Caliph and Abu Isa and Ali drank and the damsels went away and were succeeded by other ten, all clad in flowered silk of Al-Yaman, brocaded with gold, who sat down on the chairs and sang various songs. The Caliph looked at one of the concubines, who was like a wild heifer of the waste, and said to her, “What is thy name, O damsel?” She replied, “My name is Zabiyah,[[218]] O Commander of the Faithful;” and he, “Sing to us, Zabiyah;” so she warbled like a bird with many a trill and sang these two couplets:—
Houris, and high-born Dames who feel no fear of men; ✿ Like Meccan game forbidden man to slam:[[219]]
Their soft sweet voices make you deem them whores, ✿ But bars them from all whoring Al-Islam.
When she had finished, Al-Maamun cried, “Favoured of Allah art thou!”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Four Hundred and Sixteenth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the slave-girl finished her song, Al-Maamun cried, “Favoured of Allah art thou! Whose is this verse?” and she answered, “Jarír’s[[220]] and the air is by Ibn Surayj.” Then the Caliph and his company drank, whilst the girls went away and there came forth yet other ten, as they were rubies, robed in red brocade inwoven with gold and purfled with pearls and jewels whilst all their heads were bare. They sat down on the stools and sang various airs; so the Caliph looked at one of them, who was like the sun of the day, and asked her, “What is thy name, O damsel?”; and she answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, my name is Fátin.” “Sing to us, O Fatin,” quoth he; whereat she played a lively measure and sang these couplets:—
Deign grant thy favours; since ‘tis time I were engraced; ✿ Enough of severance hath it been my lot to taste.
Thou’rt he whose face doth every gift and charm unite; ✿ Yet is my patience spent for that ‘twas sore misplaced: