When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-first Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchants bid one against other till they made the price of the girl nine hundred and fifty dinars. Then the broker went up to her Persian master and said to him, "The biddings for this thy slave-girl have reached nine hundred and fifty dinars: so say me, wilt thou sell her at that price and take the money?" Asked the Persian, "Doth she consent to this? I desire to fall in with her wishes, for I sickened on my journey hither and this handmaid tended me with all possible tenderness, wherefore I sware not to sell her but to him whom she should like and approve, and I have put her sale in her own hand. So do thou consult her and if she say, 'I consent,' sell her to whom thou wilt: but an she say, 'No,' sell her not." So the broker went up to her and asked her, "O Princess of fair ones, know that thy master putteth thy sale in thine own hands, and thy price hath reached nine hundred and fifty dinars; dost thou give me leave to sell thee?" She answered, "Show me him who is minded to buy me before clinching the bargain." So he brought her up to one of the merchants a man stricken with years and decrepit; and she looked at him a long while, then turned to the broker and said to him, "O broker, art thou Jinn-mad or afflicted in thy wit?" Replied he, "Why dost thou ask me this, O Princess of fair ones?"; and said she, "Is it permitted thee of Allah to sell the like of me to yonder decrepit old man, who saith of his wife's case these couplets,
'Quoth she to me,—and sore enraged for wounded pride was she, *
For she in sooth had bidden me to that which might not be,—
'An if thou swive me not forthright, as one should swive his
wife, * Thou be made a cuckold straight, reproach it not to
me.
Meseems thy yard is made of wax, for very flaccidness; * For when
I rub it with my hand, it softens instantly.'[FN#457]
And said he likewise of his yard,
'I have a yard that sleeps in base and shameful way * When grants
my lover boon for which I sue and pray:
But when I wake o' mornings[FN#458] all alone in bed, * 'Tis fain
o' foin and fence and fierce for futter-play.'
And again quoth he thereof of his yard,
'I have a froward yard of temper ill * Dishonoring him who shows
it most regard:
It stands when sleep I, when I stand it sleeps * Heaven pity not
who pitieth that yard!'"
When the old merchant heard this ill flouting from the damsel, he was wroth with wrath exceeding beyond which was no proceeding and said to the broker, "O most ill-omened of brokers, thou hast not brought into the market this ill-conditioned wench but to gibe me and make mock of me before the merchants." Then the broker took her aside and said to her, "O my lady, be not wanting in self-respect. The Shaykh at whom thou didst mock is the Syndic of the bazar and Inspector[FN#459] thereof and a committee-man of the council of the merchants." But she laughed and improvised these two couplets,
"It behoveth folk who rule in our time, * And 'tis one of the
duties of magistrateship,
To hand up the Wali above his door * And beat with a whip the
Mohtasib!"
Adding, "By Allah, O my lord, I will not be sold to yonder old man; so sell me to other than him, for haply he will be abashed at me and vend me again and I shall become a mere servant[FN#460] and it beseemeth not that I sully myself with menial service; and indeed thou knowest that the matter of my sale is committed to myself." He replied, "I hear and I obey," and carried her to a man which was one of the chief merchants. And when standing hard by him the broker asked, "How sayst thou, O my lady? Shall I sell thee to my lord Sharíf al-Dín here for nine hundred and fifty gold pieces?" She looked at him and, seeing him to be an old man with a dyed beard, said to the broker, "Art thou silly, that thou wouldst sell me to this worn out Father Antic? Am I cotton refuse or threadbare rags that thou marchest me about from greybeard to greybeard, each like a wall ready to fall or an Ifrit smitten down of a fire-ball? As for the first, the poet had him in mind when he said,[FN#461]