An Allah bade me perish for the love of you, ✿ Mid greatest martyrs for your love I lief will die.
Oft a gazelle doth make my heart her browsing stead ✿ The while her form of flesh like sleep eludes mine eye:
If in the lists of Law my bloodshed she deny, ✿ Prove it two witnesses those cheeks of ruddy dye.
When Nur al-Huda was assured that the little ones were indeed Hasan’s children and that her sister, the Princess Manar al-Sana, was his wife, of whom he was come in quest, she was wroth against her with wrath beyond measure.——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Sixteenth Night,
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Huda was certified that the little ones were Hasan’s children and that her sister Manar al-Sana was his wife of whom he had come in quest, she raged with exceeding rage, too great to be assuaged and screamed in Hasan’s face and reviled him and kicked him in the breast, so that he fell on his back in a swoon. Then she cried out at him, saying, “Arise! fly for thy life. But that I swore that no evil should betide thee from me, should thy tale prove true, I would slay thee with mine own hand forthright!” And she cried out at the old woman, who fell on her face for fear, and said to her, “By Allah, but that I am loath to break the oath that I swore, I would put both thee and him to death after the foulest fashion!”; presently adding, “Arise, go out from before me in safety and return to thine own country, for I swear by my fortune, if ever mine eye espy thee or if any bring thee in to me after this, I will smite off thy head and that of whoso bringeth thee!” Then she cried out to her officers, saying, “Put him out from before me!” So they thrust him out, and when he came to himself, he recited these couplets:—
You’re far, yet to my heart you’re nearest near; ✿ Absent yet present in my sprite you appear:
By Allah, ne’er to other I’ve inclined ✿ But tyranny of Time in patience bear!
Nights pass while still I love you and they end, ✿ And burns my breast with flames of fell Sa’ír[[153]];
I was a youth who parting for an hour ✿ Bore not, then what of months that make a year?