The man rejoiced and, emptying his cup, gave the girls to drink. Then he signed to the thin girl and said to her, 'O Houri of Paradise, feed thou our ears with sweet words and sounds.' So she took the lute; and, tuning it, preluded and sang these two couplets,
'Say me, on Allah's path[FN#351] hast death not dealt to me, *
Turning from me while I to thee turn patiently:
Say me, is there no judge of Love to judge us twain, * And do me
justice wronged, mine enemy, by thee?'
Their lord rejoiced and, emptying the cup, gave the girls to drink. Then filling another he signed to the yellow girl and said to her, O sun of the day, let us hear some nice verses.' So she took the lute and, preluding after the goodliest fashion, sang these couplets,
'I have a lover and when drawing him, * He draws on me a sword-
blade glancing grim:
Allah avenge some little of his wrongs, * Who holds my heart yet
wreaks o erbearing whim
Oft though I say, 'Renounce him, heart!' yet heart * Will to none
other turn excepting him.
He is my wish and will of all men, but * Fate's envious hand to
me's aye grudging him.'
The master rejoiced and drank and gave the girls to drink; then he filled the cup and taking it in hand, signed to the black girl, saying, 'O pupil of the eye, let us have a taste of thy quality, though it be but two words.' So she took the lute and tuning it and tightening the strings, preluded in various modes, then returned to the first and sang to a lively air these couplets,
'Ho ye, mine eyes, let prodigal-tears go free; * This ecstasy
would see my being unbe:[FN#352]
All ecstasies I dreefor sake of friend * I fondle, maugre
enviers' jealousy:
Censors forbid me from his rosy cheek, * Yet e'er inclines my
heart to rosery:
Cups of pure wine, time was, went circuiting * In joy, what time
the lute sang melody,
While kept his troth the friend who madded me, * Yet made me
rising star of bliss to see:
But—with Time, turned he not by sin of mine; * Than such a turn
can aught more bitter be?
Upon his cheek there grows and glows a rose, * Nay two, whereof
grant Allah one to me!
An were prostration[FN#353] by our law allowed * To aught but
Allah, at his feet I had bowed.'
Thereupon rose the six girls and, kissing the ground before their lord, said to him, 'Do thou justice between us, O our lord!' So he looked at their beauty and loveliness and the contrast of their colours and praised Almighty Allah and glorified Him. Then said he, 'There is none of you but hath learnt the Koran by heart, and mastered the musical-art and is versed in the chronicles' of yore and the doings of peoples which have gone before; so it is my desire that each one of you rise and, pointing finger at her opposite, praise herself and dispraise her co-concubine; that is to: say, let the blonde point to the brunette, the plump to the slenderer and the yellow to the black girl; after which the rivals, each in her turn, shall do the like with the former; and be this illustrated with citations from Holy Writ and somewhat of anecdotes and,; verse, so as to show forth your fine breeding and elegance of your pleading.' And they answered him, 'We hear and we obey!;"—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Thirty-fifth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the handmaids answered the man of Al-Yaman, "'We hear and we obey!' Accordingly the blonde rose first and, pointing at the black girl, said to her: 'Out on thee, blackamoor! It is told by tradition that whiteness saith, 'I am the shining light, I am the rising moon of the fourteenth night. My hue is patent and my brow is resplendent and of my beauty quoth the poet,'
'White girl with softly rounded polished cheeks * As if a pearl
concealed by Beauty's boon:
Her stature Alif-like;[FN#354] her smile like Mнm[FN#355] * And
o'er her eyes two brows that bend like Nъn.[FN#356]
'Tis as her glance were arrow, and her brows * Bows ever bent to
shoot Death-dart eftsoon:
If cheek and shape thou view, there shalt thou find * Rose,
myrtle, basil and Narcissus wone.
Men wont in gardens plant and set the branch, * How many garths
thy stature-branch cloth own!'