O fire of heart, O pine and woe of me, ✿ Wooing a fair like moon mid starry train:
Burns no my heart O no! nor aught regrets ✿ Of good or land, but ah! her eyes’ disdain!
Amazed I’m grown and dazed for drearihead ✿ And blame I Time who brought such pine and pain.
Quoth she, “Why art thou so bedazed!” quoth I ✿ “Wine-drunken wight shall more of wine assain?”
That mortal stole my sense by silk-soft shape, ✿ Which doth for heart-core hardest rock contain.
I nervèd self and cried, “This day she’s mine” ✿ By bet, nor fear I prove she unhumàne:
My heart ne’er ceased to seek possession, till ✿ Beggared I found me for conditions twain:
Will youth you loveth shun the Love-dealt blow, ✿ Tho’ were he whelmed in Love’s high-surging main?
So woke the slave sans e’en a coin to turn, ✿ Thralled to repine for what he ne’er shall gain!
Zayn al-Mawasif hearing these words marvelled at the eloquence of his tongue and said to him, “O Masrur, leave this madness and return to thy right reason and wend thy ways; for thou hast wasted all thy moveables and immoveables at the chess-game, yet hast not won thy wish, nor hast thou any resource or device whereby thou mayst attain to it.” But he turned to her and said, “O my lady, ask of me whatso thou wilt and thou shalt have it; for I will bring it to thee and lay it at thy feet.” Answered she, “O Masrur, thou hast no money left.” “O goal of all hopes, if I have no money, the folk will help me.” “Shall the giver turn asker?” “I have friends and kinsfolk, and whatsoever I seek of them, they will give me.” “O Masrur, I will have of thee four pods of musk and four vases of civet[[323]] and four pounds of ambergris and four thousand dinars and four hundred pieces of royal brocade, purfled with gold. An thou bring me these things, O Masrur, I will grant thee my favours.” “This is a light matter to me, O thou that puttest the moons to shame,” replied he and went forth to fetch her what she sought. She sent her maid Hubub after him, to see what worth he had with the folk of whom he had spoken to her; but, as he walked along the highways he turned and seeing her afar off, waited till she came up to him and said to her, “Whither away, O Hubub?” So she said to him, “My mistress sent me to follow for this and that,” and he replied, “By Allah, O Hubub, I have nothing to hand!” She asked, “Then why didst thou promise her?”; and he answered, “How many a promise made is unkept of its maker! Fine words in love-matters needs must be.” When she heard this from him, she said, “O Masrur, be of good cheer and eyes clear for, by Allah, most assuredly I will be the means of thy coming to enjoy her!” Then she left him nor ceased walking till she stood before her mistress weeping with sore weeping, and said, “O my lady, indeed he is a man of great consideration, and good repute among the folk.” Quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “There is no device against the destiny of Almighty Allah! Verily, this man found not in me a pitiful heart, for that I despoiled him of his substance and he got of me neither affection nor complaisance in granting him amorous joy; but, if I incline to his inclination, I fear lest the thing be bruited abroad.” Quoth Hubub, “O my lady, verily, grievous upon us is his present plight and the loss of his good and thou hast with thee none save thyself and thy slave-girl Sukub; so which of us two would dare prate of thee, and we thy handmaids?” With this, she bowed her head for a while groundwards and the damsels said to her, “O my lady, it is our rede that thou send after him and show him grace and suffer him not ask of the sordid; for how bitter is such begging!” So she accepted their counsel and calling for inkcase and paper, wrote him these couplets:—