Now Al-Mutalammis was a renowned poet; so he answered her saying:—
Right near at hand, Umaymah mine! whene’er the caravan ✿ Halted, I never ceased for thee to pine, I would thou know.
When the bridegroom heard this, he guessed how the case stood and went forth from among them in haste improvising:—
I was in bestest luck, but now my luck goes contrary: ✿ A hospitable house and room contain your loves, you two!
And he returned not but left the twain to their privacy. So Al-Mutalammis and his wife abode together in all comfort and solace of life and in all its joys and jollities till death parted them. And glory be to Him at whose command the earth and the heavens shall arise! And among other tales is that of
[105]. A pre-Islamitic bard and friend of Tarafah the poet of the Suspended or “Prize Poem.” The tale is familiar to all the Moslem East. Tarafah’s Laura was one Khaulá.
[106]. King of Hirah in Chaldæa, a drunken and bloodthirsty tyrant. When offended by the lampoons of the two poets he sent them with litteræ Bellerophontiæ to the Governor of Al-Bahrayn. Al-Mutalammis “smelt a rat” and destroyed his charge, but Tarafah was mutilated and buried alive, the victim of a trick which is old as (and older than) good King David and Uriah. Of course neither poet could read.
[107]. On this occasion, and in presence of the women only, the groom first sees or is supposed to see the face of his wife. It is, I have said, the fashion for both to be greatly overcome and to appear as if about to faint: the groom looks especially ridiculous when so attitudinising.