'Quoth they, 'Thou'rt surely raving mad for her thou lov'st;' and
I, 'There is no pleasantness in life but for the mad,'
reply.
Compare my madness with herself for whom I rave; if she Accord
therewith, then blame me not for that which I aby.'"
Miriam replied, "By Allah, O Nur al-Din, indeed thou hast sinned against thyself, for I warned thee of this before it befell thee: yet wouldst thou not hearken to me, but followedst thine own lust: albeit that whereof I gave thee to know I learnt not by means of inspiration nor physiognomy[FN#520] nor dreams, but by eye-witness and very sight; for I saw the one-eyed Wazir and knew that he was not come to Alexandria but in quest of me." Said he, "O my lady Miriam, we seek refuge with Allah from the error of the intelligent!"[FN#521] Then his affliction redoubled on him and he recited this saying,[FN#522]
"Pass o'er my fault, for 'tis the wise man's wont
Of other's sins to take no harsh account;
And as all crimes have made my breast their site,
So thine all shapes of mercy should unite.
Who from above would mercy seek to know,
Should first be merciful to those below."
Then Nur al-Din and Princess Miriam ceased not from lovers' chiding which to trace would be tedious, relating each to other that which had befallen them and reciting verses and making moan, one to other, of the violence of passion and the pangs of pine and desire, whilst the tears ran down their cheeks like rivers, till there was left them no strength to say a word and so they continued till day deprated and night darkened. Now the Princess was clad in a green dress, purfled with red gold and broidered with pearls and gems which enhanced her beauty and loveliness and inner grace; and right well quoth the poet of her,[FN#523]
"Like the full moon she shineth in garments all of green, With
loosened vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.
'What is thy name?' I asked her, and she replied, 'I'm she Who
roasts the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen.
I am the pure white silver, ay, and the gold wherewith The
bondsmen from strait prison and dour releasčd been.'
Quoth I, 'I'm all with rigours consumed;' but 'On a rock,' Said
she, 'such as my heart is, thy plaints are wasted clean.'
'Even if thy heart,' I answered, 'be rock in very deed, Yet hath
God caused fair water well from the rock, I ween.'"
And when night darkened on them the Lady Miriam went up to her women and asked them, "Have ye locked the door?"; and they answered, "Indeed we have locked it." So she took them and went with them to a place called the Chapel of the Lady Mary the Virgin, Mother of Light, because the Nazarenes hold that there are her heart and soul. The girls betook themselves to prayer for blessings from above and circuited all the church; and when they had made an end of their visitation, the Princess turned to them and said, "I desire to pass the night alone in the Virgin's chapel and seek a blessing thereof, for that yearning after it hath betided me, by reason of my long absence in the land of the Moslems; and as for you, when ye have made an end of your visitation, do ye sleep whereso ye will." Replied they, "With love and goodly gree: be it as thou wilt!"; and leaving her alone in the chapel, dispersed about the church and slept. The Lady Miriam waited till they were out of sight and hearing, then went in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found sitting in a corner on live coals, awaiting her. He rose and kissed her hands and feet and she sat down and seated him by her side. Then she pulled off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and fine linen and taking Nur al-Din in her arms strained him to her bosom. And they ceased not, she and he, from kissing and clipping and strumming to the tune of "hocus-pocus,"[FN#524] saying the while, "How short are the nights of Union and the nights of Disunion how long are they!" and reciting these verses,
"O Night of Union, Time's virginal prized, * White star of the
Nights with auroral dyes,
Thou garrest Dawn after Noon to rise * Say art thou Kohl in
Morning's Eyes,
Or wast thou Slumber to bleared eye lief?
O Night of Parting, how long thy stay * Whose latest hours aye
the first portray,
This endless circle that noways may * Show breach till the coming
of Judgment-day,
Day when dies the lover of parting-grief."[FN#525]
As they were in this mighty delight and joy engrossing they heard one of the servants of the Saint[FN#526] smite the gong[FN#527] upon the roof, to call the folk to the rites of their worship, and he was even as saith the poet,
"I saw him strike the gong and asked of him straightway, * Who
made the Fawn[FN#528] at striking going so knowing, eh?'
And to my soul, 'What smiting irketh thee the more— * Striking
the gong or striking note of going,[FN#529] say?'"
—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.