Now when the letter came to the hands of Al-Maamun, he robed the six damsels in rich raiment; and, giving them threescore thousand dinars, sent them back to their lord who joyed in them with exceeding joy[FN#387] (more especially for the monies they brought him), and abode with them in all the comfort and pleasance of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. And men also recount the tale of
HARUN AL-RASHID AND THE DAMSEL AND ABU NOWAS.
The Caliph, Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, being one night exceedingly restless and thoughtful with sad thought, rose from his couch and walked about the by-ways of his palace, till he came to a chamber, over whose doorway hung a curtain. He raised that curtain and saw, at the upper end of the room, a bedstead whereon lay something black, as it were a man asleep, with a wax taper on his right hand and another on his left; and as the Caliph stood wondering at the sight, behold, he remarked a flagon full of old wine whose mouth was covered by the cup. The Caliph wondered even more at this, saying, "How came this black by such wine-service?" Then, drawing near the bedstead, he found that it was a girl lying asleep there, curtained by her hair; so he uncovered her face and saw that it was like the moon, on the night of his fulness.[FN#388] So the Caliph filled himself a cup of wine and drank it to the roses of her cheeks; and, feeling inclined to enjoy her, kissed a mole on her face, whereupon she started up from sleep, and cried out, "O Trusted of Allah,[FN#389] what may this be?" Replied he, "A guest who knocketh at thy door, hoping that thou wilt give him hospitality till the dawn;" and she answered; "Even so! I will serve him with my hearing and my sight." So she brought forward the wine and they drank together, after which she took the lute and tuning the strings, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then returning to the first, played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
"The tongue of love from heart bespeaks my sprite, * Telling I
love thee with love infinite:
I have an eye bears witness to my pain, * And fluttering heart
sore hurt by parting-plight.
I cannot hide the love that harms my life; * Tears ever roll and
growth of pine I sight:
I knew not what love was ere loving thee; * But Allah's destiny
to all is dight."
And when her verses were ended she said, "O Commander of the Faithful, I have been wronged!"—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Thirty-ninth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel cried, "O Commander of the Faithful, I have been wronged!" Quoth he, "How so, and who hath wronged thee?" Quoth she "Thy son bought me awhile ago, for ten thousand dirhams, meaning to give me to thee; but thy wife, the daughter of thine uncle, sent him the said price and bade him shut me up from thee in this chamber." Whereupon said the Caliph, "Ask a boon of me," and she, "I ask thee to lie with me to-morrow night." Replied the Caliph, "Inshallah!" and leaving her, went away. Now as soon as it was morning, he repaired to his sitting-room and called for Abu Nowas, but found him not and sent his chamberlain to ask after him. The chamberlain found him in a tavern, pawned and pledged for a score of a thousand dirhams, which he had spent on a certain beardless youth, and questioned him of his case. So he told him what had betided him with the comely boy and how he had spent upon him a thousand silver pieces; whereupon quoth the chamberlain, "Show him to me; and if he be worth this, thou art excused." He answered, "Patience, and thou shalt see him presently.' As they were talking together, up came the lad, clad in a white tunic, under which was another of red and under this yet another black. Now when Abu Nowas saw him, he sighed a loud sigh and improvised these couplets,
"He showed himself in shirt of white, * With eyes and eyelids
languor-digit.
Quoth I, 'Doss pass and greet me not? * Though were thy greeting
a delight?
Blest He who clothed in rose thy cheeks, * Creates what wills He
by His might!'
Quoth he, 'Leave prate, forsure my Lord * Of works is wondrous
infinite:
My garment's like my face and luck; * All three are white on
white on white.'"
When the beardless one heard these words, he doffed the white tunic and appeared in the red; and when Abu Nowas saw him he redoubled in expressions of admiration and repeated these couplets,
"He showed in garb anemone-red, * A foeman 'friend' entitulиd:
Quoth I in marvel, 'Thou'rt full moon * Whose weed shames rose
however red:
Hath thy cheek stained it red, or hast * Dyed it in blood by
lovers bled?'
Quoth he, 'Sol gave me this for shirt * When hasting down the
West to bed
So garb and wine and hue of cheek * All three are red on red on
red.'"