Zayn al-Mawasif was delighted and said to him, "O Masrur, how goodly are thy inner gifts! May he live not who would harm thy heart!" Then she entered her boudoir and called him: so he went in to her and taking her in his arms, embraced her and hugged her and kissed her and got of her that which he had deemed impossible and rejoiced in winning the sweet of amorous will. Then said she, "O Masrur, thy good is unlawful to me and is lawfully thine again now that we are become lovers." So she returned to him all she had taken of him and asked him, "O Masrur, hast thou a flower-garden whither we may wend and take our pleasure?"; whereto he answered, "Yes, O my lady, I have a garden that hath not its like." Then he returned to his lodgings and bade his slave-girls make ready a splendid banquet in a handsome room; after which he summoned Zayn al-Mawasif who came surrounded by her damsels, and they ate and drank and made mirth and merriment, whilst the cup passed round between them and their spirits rose high. Then lover withdrew with beloved and Zayn al-Mawasif said to Masrur, "I have bethought me of some dainty verses, which I would fain sing to the lute." He replied, "Do sing them"; so she took the lute and tuning it, sang to a pleasant air these couplets,
"Joy from stroke of string doth to me incline, * And sweet is
a-morning our early wine;
Whenas Love unveileth the amourist's heart, * And by rending the
veil he displays his sign,
With a draught so pure, so dear, so bright, * As in hand of
Moons[FN#338] the Sun's sheeny shine
O' nights it cometh with joy to 'rase * The hoar of sorrow by
boon divine."
Then ending her verse, she said to him, "O Masrur, recite us somewhat of thy poetry and favour us with the fruit of thy thought." So he recited these two couplets,
"We joy in full Moon who the wine bears round, * And in concert
of lutes that from gardens sound;
Where the dove moans at dawn and where bends the bough * To Morn,
and all pathways of pleasure are found."
When he had finished his recitation she said to him, "Make us some verses on that which hath passed between us an thou be occupied with love of me."—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
When it was the Eight Hundred and Fifty-first Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif said to Masrur, "An thou be occupied with love of me, make us some verses on that hath passed between us," "With love and gladness," he replied and improvised the following Kasídah[FN#339],
"Stand thou and hear what fell to me * For love of you gazelle to
dree!
Shot me a white doe with her shaft * O' glances wounding
woundily.
Love was my ruin, for was I * Straitened by longing ecstasy:
I loved and woo'd a young coquette * Girded by strong artillery,
Whom in a garth I first beheld * A form whose sight was symmetry.
I greeted her and when she deigned * Greeting return, 'Salám,'
quoth she
'What be thy name?' said I, she said, * 'My name declares my
quality![FN#340]'
'Zayn al-Mawásif I am hight.' * Cried I, 'Oh deign I mercy see,'
'Such is the longing in my heart * No lover claimeth rivalry!'
Quoth she, 'With me an thou 'rt in love * And to enjoy me
pleadest plea,
I want of thee oh! muchel wealth; * Beyond all compt my wants o'
thee!
I want o' thee full many a robe * Of sendal, silk and damaskry;
A quarter quintal eke of musk: * These of one night shall pay the
fee.
Pearls, unions and carnelian[FN#341]-stones * The bestest best of
jewelry!'
Of fairest patience showed I show * In contrariety albe:
At last she favoured me one night * When rose the moon a crescent
wee;
An stranger blame me for her sake * I say, 'O blamers listen ye!
She showeth locks of goodly length * And black as blackest night
its blee;
While on her cheeks the roses glow * Like Lazá-flame incendiary:
In every eyelash is a sword * And every glance hath archery:
Her liplets twain old wine contain, * And dews of fount-like
purity:
Her teeth resemble strings o' pearls, * Arrayed in line and fresh
from sea:
Her neck is like the neck of doe, * Pretty and carven perfectly:
Her bosom is a marble slab * Whence rise two breasts like towers
on lea:
And on her stomach shows a crease * Perfumed with rich perfumery;
Beneath which same there lurks a Thing * Limit of mine
expectancy.
A something rounded, cushioned-high * And plump, my lords, to
high degree:
To me 'tis likest royal throne * Whither my longings wander free;
There 'twixt two pillars man shall find * Benches of high-built
tracery.
It hath specific qualities * Drive sanest men t' insanity;
Full mouth it hath like mouth of neck * Or well begirt by stony
key;
Firm lips with camelry's compare * And shows it eye of cramoisie.
An draw thou nigh with doughty will * To do thy doing lustily,
Thou'll find it fain to face thy bout * And strong and fierce in
valiancy.
It bendeth backwards every brave * Shorn of his battle-bravery.
At times imberbe, but full of spunk * To battle with the
Paynimry.
'T will show thee liveliness galore * And perfect in its
raillery:
Zayn al-Mawasif it is like * Complete in charms and courtesy.
To her dear arms one night I came * And won meed given lawfully:
I passed with her that self-same night * (Best of my nights!) in
gladdest glee;
And when the morning rose, she rose * And crescent like her
visnomy:
Then swayed her supple form as sway * The lances lopt from limber
tree;
And when farewelling me she cried, * 'When shall such nights
return to me?'
Then I replied, 'O eyen-light, * When He vouchsafeth His
decree!'"[FN#342]
Zayn al-Mawasif was delighted with this Ode and the utmost gladness gat hold of her. Then said she, "O Masrur day-dawn draweth nigh and there is naught for it save to fly for fear of scandal and spy!" He replied, "I hear and obey," and rising led her to her lodging, after which he returned to his quarters[FN#343] and passed the rest of the night pondering on her charms. When the morning morrowed with its sheen and shone, he made ready a splendid present and carried it to her and sat by her side. And thus they abode awhile, in all solace of life and its delight, till one day there came to Zayn al-Mawasif a letter from her husband reporting to her his speedy return. Thereupon she said in herself, "May Allah not keep him nor quicken him! If he come hither, our life will be troubled: would Heaven I might despair of him!" Presently entered Masrur and sat with her at chat, as was his wont, whereupon she said to him, "O Masrur, I have received a missive from my mate, announcing his speedy return from his wayfaring. What is to be done, since neither of us without other can live?" He replied, "I know not; but thou art better able to judge, being acquainted with the ways of thy man, more by token that thou art one of the sharpest-witted of women and past mistress of devices such as devise that whereof fail the wise." Quoth she, "He is a hard man and jealous of his household: but, when he shall come home and thou hearest of his coming, do thou repair to him and salute him and sit down by his side, saying, 'O my brother, I am a druggist.' Then buy of him somewhat of drugs and spices of sorts and call upon him frequently and prolong thy talks with him and gainsay him not in whatsoever he shall bid thee; so haply that I would contrive may betide, as it were by chance." "I hear and I obey," quoth Masrur and fared forth from her, with heart a-fire for love. When her husband came home, she rejoiced in meeting him and after saluting him bade him welcome; but he looked in her face and seeing it pale and sallow (for she had washed it with saffron, using one of women's arts), asked her of her case. She answered that she had been sick, she and her women, from the time of his wayfaring, adding, "Verily, our hearts have been engrossed with thoughts of thee because of the length of thine absence." And she went on to complain to him of the misery of separation and to pour forth copious tears, saying, "Hadst thou but a companion with thee, my heart had not borne all this cark and care for thee. So, Allah upon thee, O my lord, travel not again without a comrade and cut me not off from news of thee, that my heart and mind may be at rest concerning thee!"—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
When it was the Eight Hundred and Fifty-second Night,