Short the time was—not seven days had glided—
Short indeed the time—and many a noble
Had our lady—though in widow’s garments—
Had our lady ask’d in holy marriage.
And the noblest was Imoski’s Cadi;
And our lady, weeping, pray’d her brother:
“I exhort thee, on thy life exhort thee,
Give me not, oh, give me not in marriage!
For the sight of my poor orphan’d children
Sure would break the spirit of thy sister!”
Little cared her brother for her sorrows;
He had sworn she should espouse the Cadi.
But his sister pray’d him thus unceasing:
“Send at least one letter, O my brother!
With this language to Imoski’s Cadi:
‘Friendly greetings speeds the youthful woman;
But entreats thee, by these words entreats thee,
When the Suates [55] shall conduct thee hither,
Thou a long and flowing veil wilt bring me,
That, in passing Hassan’s lonely dwelling,
I may hide me from my hapless orphans.’”
Hardly had the Cadi read the letter,
Than he gather’d his Suates together,
Arm’d himself, and hasten’d t’wards the lady,
Home to bring her as his bridal treasure.
Happily he reach’d the princely dwelling,
Happily were all returning homeward,
When toward Hassan’s house they were approaching,
Her two daughters saw her from the window,
Her two sons rush’d on her from the portal:
And they cried, “Come hither! O come hither!
Take thy night’s repast with thine own children!”
Sorrowfully Hassan’s consort heard them;
To the Sarisvat she thus address’d her:
“Let the Suates stay, and let the horses
Tarry here at this beloved portal,
While I make a present to the children.”
As they stopp’d at the beloved portal,
Presents gave she unto all the children.
To the boys, boots all with gold embroider’d;
To the girls, long and resplendent dresses;
And to the poor baby in the cradle,
For the time to come; a little garment.
Near them sat their father, Hassan Aga,
And he call’d in sorrow to his children:
“Come to me, poor children! to your father;
For your mother’s breast is turn’d to iron,
Closed against you, harden’d ’gainst all pity.”
When these words were heard by Hassan’s consort,
On the ground she fell, all pale and trembling,
Till her spirit burst her heavy bosom
At the glances of her orphan children. [57]