Lord, I submit myself to that Thou dost decree, Contented to
endure, if but it pleasure Thee;
To suffer at Thy will with patience nor complain, Though I be
cast to burn on coals of tamarisk-tree.[FN#68]
Mine enemies oppress and torture me; but Thou With benefits
belike shall 'quite and comfort me.
Far be 't from Thee to let th' oppressor go unscathed; Thou art
my hope and stay, O Lord of Destiny!
And what another says:
Avert thy face from thought-taking and care And trust to fate to
order thine affair;
For many a weary and a troublous thing Is, in its issue,
solaceful and fair.
That which was strait is oftentimes made wide And straitened
that, which easy was whilere.
God orders all, according to His will; Gainsay Him not in what He
doth prepare,
But trust in happy fortune near at hand, Wherein thou shalt
forget the woes that were.
Then the slave-girl beat him till he fainted away and throwing him a cake of bread and a cruse of brackish water, went away and left him sad and lonely, bound in chains of iron, with the blood streaming from his sides and far from those he loved. So he called to mind his brother and his former high estate and repeated the following verses, shedding floods of tears the while:
How long wilt thou wage war on me, O Fate, and bear away My
brethren from me? Hold thy hand and spare awhile, I pray!
Is it not time, O thou whose heart is as the rock, that thou My
long estrangement and my dole shouldst pity and allay?
Ill hast thou wrought to those I love and made my foes exult With
all that thou hast wreaked on me of ruin and dismay.
Yea, for the pains he sees me brook of exile and desire And
loneliness, my foeman's heart is solaceful and gay.
Thou'rt not content with what is fallen on me of bitter dole, Of
loss of friends and swollen eyes, affliction and affray.
But I must lie and rot, to boot, in prison strait and dour, Where
nought but gnawing of my hands I have for help and stay,
And tears that shower in torrents down, as from the rain-charged
clouds, And fire of yearning, never quenched, that rages
night and day,
And memory and longing pain and melancholy thought And sobs and
sighs and groans and cries of "Woe!" and "Wellaway!"
Passion and soul-destroying grief I suffer, and unto Desire, that
knoweth not relent nor end, am fallen a prey.
No kindly soul is found to have compassion on my case And with
his visits and his grace my misery allay.
Lives there a true and tender friend, who doth compassionate My
sickness and my long unrest, that unto him I may
Make moan of all that I endure for dole and drearihead And of my
sleepless eyes, oppressed of wakefulness alway?
My night in torments is prolonged; I burn, without reprieve, In
flames of heart-consuming care that rage in me for aye.
The bug and flea do drink my blood, even as one drinks of wine,
Poured by the hand of damask-lipped and slender-waisted may.
The body of me, amongst the lice, is as an orphan's good, That in
an unjust Cadi's hands doth dwindle and decay.
My dwelling-place is in a tomb, three scanty cubits wide, Wherein
in shackles and in bonds I languish night and day.
My tears my wine are and my chains my music: my dessert Woeworthy
thought and cares the bed whereon myself I lay.
Meanwhile his brother abode, awaiting him, till mid-day, but he returned not: whereupon Amjed's heart fluttered and the tears welled from his eyes. The pangs of severance were sore upon him and he wept sore, exclaiming, 'Alas, my brother! Alas, my companion! Alas, my grief! I fear me we are separated!' Then he descended the mountain, with the tears running down his cheeks, and entering the city, made for the market. He asked the folk the name of the city and of its people, and they said, 'This is called the City of the Magians, and its people serve the Fire, not the Omnipotent King.' Then he enquired of the City of Ebony and they answered, 'It is a year's journey thither by land and six months' by sea: it was governed erst by a King called Armanous, but he took to son-in-law a prince called Kemerezzeman, distinguished for justice and loyalty, munificence and benevolence, and made him king in his stead.' When Amjed heard tell of his father, he groaned and wept and lamented and knew not whither to go. However, he bought food and carried it with him, till he came to a retired spot, where he sat down, thinking to eat: but, recalling his brother, he fell a-weeping and ate but a morsel to stay his stomach, and that against his will. Then he rose and walked about the city, seeking news of his brother, till he saw a Muslim, a tailor, sitting in his shop; so he sat down by him and told him his story; whereupon quoth the tailor, 'If he have fallen into the hands of any of the Magians, thou shalt hardly see him again: yet it may be God will reunite you. But thou, O my brother,' added he, 'wilt thou lodge with me?' 'Yes,' answered Amjed, and the tailor rejoiced at this. So Amjed abode with him many days, what while the tailor comforted him and exhorted him to patience and taught him his craft, till he became expert. One day, he went forth to the sea-shore and washed his clothes; after which he entered the bath and put on clean raiment. Then he walked about the streets, to divert himself, and presently fell in with a woman of surpassing beauty and symmetry, unequalled for grace and loveliness. When she saw him, she raised her face-veil and winked to him and ogled him, reciting the following verses:
Afar, I saw thee coming and cast mine eyes down straight, As if,
loveling slender, thou wert the very sun.
Indeed, thou art the fairest of all beholden; yea, Even than
thyself thou'rt fairer, since yesterday was done.
Were beauty but allotted, to every one his due, One-fifth of it
were Joseph's or but a part of one,
And all the rest were surely thine own and only thine; May all
men be thy ransom, yea, every mother's son!
When he heard this, his heart inclined to her and the hands of love sported with him: so he winked to her in answer and repeated the following verses:
Over the rose of the cheek, the thorns of the eyelashes rise; So
who shall adventure himself to gather the flowery prize?
Lift not your hands to the rose, for long have the lashes waged
war And poured on us battle, because we lifted to it-ward
our eyes.
Tell her the tyrant who plays and yet is temptation itself,
(Though still more seductive she'd be, if she dealt but in
loyaller wise),
I see that, for beauty like thine, exposure's the surest of
guards, For the veiling thy face but augments its seductions
and adds to our sighs;
Like the sun, on whose visage undimmed the eye still refuses to
look, And yet we may gaze at our ease, when the thinnest of
clouds o'er it lies.
The honey's protected, forsooth, by the sting of the bees of the
hive: So question the guards of the camp why they stay us in
this our emprise.
If my slaughter be what they desire, let them put off their
rancours and stand From between us and leave her to deal
with me and my life at her guise;
For, I wot, not so deadly are they, when they set on a foe with
their swords, As the eyes of the fair with the mole, when
her glances upon us she plies.
At this she sighed deeply and signing to him again, repeated the following verses: