She then folded up the letter, and gave it to the old woman, saying to her, Deliver it to him, and say to him, Abstain from these words. And she replied, I hear and obey.
She took the letter, full of joy,[61] and went with it to her house, where she passed the night; and in the morning she repaired to the shop of Táj-el-Mulook, whom she found expecting her. As soon as he beheld her, he almost flew with joy, and when she drew near to him he rose to her, standing upon his feet, and seated her by his side; and she took forth the letter, and handed it to him, saying, Read its contents. She then said to him, The lady Dunyà, when she read thy letter, was enraged; but I coaxed her and jested with her until I made her laugh, and she was moved with pity for thee, and returned thee an answer. So Táj-el-Mulook thanked her for this, and, having ordered 'Azeez to give her a thousand pieces of gold, read the letter, and understood it; and he wept violently, so that the heart of the old woman was moved with compassion for him, and his weeping and complaining grieved her. She said to him, O my son, and what is in this paper, that it hath made thee weep? He answered, She threateneth me with slaughter and crucifixion, and forbiddeth my writing to her; but if I write not to her, my death will be preferable to my life; therefore take a reply to her letter, and let her do what she will.—By thy youth, replied the old woman, I must risk my life for thee, and enable thee to attain thy desire, and accomplish for thee that which is in thy heart. And Táj-el-Mulook said, Whatsoever thou dost I will requite thee for it; and it shall be determined by thee; for thou art experienced in the management of affairs, and skilled in the modes of intrigue, and everything that is difficult becometh easy to thee; and God is able to accomplish all things. So he took a paper, and wrote in it these verses:—
She threatened me with slaughter. O my bereavement! Slaughter would be ease to me, and death is decreed. Death is better than life prolonged to the love-smitten who is debarred from enjoyment and treated with oppression. By Allah, visit a helpless lover; for I am your slave, and the slave is in captivity. O my mistress, have mercy on me for my passion; for every one who loveth the virtuous is excusable.
Having done this, he sighed heavily, and wept until the old woman wept with him; after which she took the letter from him, and said to him, Be happy and cheerful; for I must accomplish for thee thy wish.
She then arose, and left him as though he were upon the fire, and repaired to the lady Dunyà, whom she found with a countenance changed by her anger in consequence of the former epistle of Táj-el-Mulook; and she handed her the second letter; whereupon her rage increased, and she said to the old woman, Did I not tell thee that he would covet us more?—And what is this dog, said the old woman, that he should aspire to thee? The lady Dunyà replied, Go to him, and say to him, If thou write to her again she will strike off thy head. But the old woman said, Do thou write this to him in a letter, and I will take it with me, that his fear may be the greater. So she took a paper, and wrote in it the following verses:—
O thou who art heedless of the course of misfortunes, and who canst not accomplish thy desired union! Dost thou think, O deceived, to attain to Es-Suhà,[62] when thou canst not reach to the shining moon? How then dost thou venture to hope for our union, and to hold in thine embrace my javelin-like form? Quit, therefore, this project, in fear of my assault on a day of adversity when hair shall become gray,
Having folded this letter, she handed it to the old woman, who took it and repaired with it to Táj-el-Mulook. At the sight of her he rose, and said, May God never deprive me of the blessing of thy coming! And the old woman replied, Receive the answer to thy letter. So he took the paper and read it, and wept violently, and said, I desire now some one to kill me; for slaughter would be easier to me than this my present state of suffering. He then took an inkhorn and a pen and paper, and wrote a letter expressed in these two verses:—
O my hope, persist not in abandonment and cruelty; but visit a lover drowned in desire. Think not that I can survive this oppression; for my soul departeth at the loss of my beloved.
And he folded the letter, and gave it to the old woman, saying to her, I have wearied thee to no purpose. And again he ordered 'Azeez to give her a thousand pieces of gold, and said to her, O my mother, this paper must be followed by complete union or complete separation.—O my son, she replied, by Allah, I desire for thee nothing but good fortune: and I wish she may be with thee; for thou art the shining moon, and she is the rising sun; and if I do not bring you together, no profit will remain to me in my life. I have passed my life in the practice of artifice and deceit, until I have attained the age of ninety years; and how then should I fail of uniting two persons in opposition to all law?
Then, having bidden him farewell, and soothed his mind, she departed, and proceeded without stopping to the lady Dunyà; but she had hidden the paper in her hair; and when she sat down with her mistress, she scratched her head, and said, O my mistress, perhaps thou wilt untwist my hair; for it is a long time since I have entered the bath. So the lady Dunyà made bare her arms to the elbows, and untwisted the old woman's hair; whereupon the paper fell from her head; and the lady Dunyà, seeing it, said, What is this paper? The old woman answered, It seemeth that, when I was sitting at the shop of the merchant, this paper caught to me: give it me, therefore, that I may return it to him. But the lady Dunyà opened it and read it, and understood its contents, and exclaimed, This is a trick of thine, and were it not for the fact of thy having reared me, I would lay violent hands upon thee this moment. God hath afflicted me by this merchant, and all that I have experienced from him hath been through thy means. I know not from what country this man hath come. No one but he could ever use such boldness towards me. I fear that this affair which hath happened to me may be discovered, and especially since it relateth to a man who is neither of my family nor of my equals.—The old woman then addressed her, and said, No one can utter a word on this subject, through fear of thy power, and of the dignity of thy father: and there will be no harm in thy returning him an answer.—O my nurse, replied the lady Dunyà, this is a devil. How hath he dared to use these words, and feared not the power of the Sulṭán? I am perplexed respecting his case; for if I give orders to kill him, it will not be right: and if I leave him, he will increase in his boldness.—Write to him a letter, rejoined the old woman; and perhaps he will be restrained. She therefore demanded a paper and an inkhorn and a pen, and wrote to him the following verses:—