At break of day, the prince awoke from sleep and turned right and left, but found not the young lady by him and said in himself, 'What is this? It would seem as if my father would fain incline me to marriage with the young lady, that was with me, and have now taken her away by stealth, to the intent that my desire for marriage may redouble.' Then he called out to the eunuch who slept at the door, saying, 'Out on thee, O accursed one, arise forthright!' So the eunuch arose, dazed with sleep, and brought him basin and ewer, whereupon Kemerezzeman entered the draught-house and did his need; then, coming out, made his ablutions and prayed the morning-prayer, after which he sat telling his beads. Then he looked up, and seeing the eunuch standing waiting upon him, said to him, 'Out on thee, O Sewab!

Who was it came hither and took away the young lady from beside me, whilst I slept?' 'O my lord, what young lady?' asked the eunuch. 'She that lay with me last night,' replied Kemerezzeman.

The eunuch was troubled at his words and said to him, 'By Allah, there has been with thee neither young lady nor other! How should she have come in to thee, when the door was locked and I asleep before it? By Allah, O my lord, neither man nor woman has come in to thee!' 'Thou liest, O pestilent slave!' exclaimed the prince. 'Dost thou also presume to hoodwink me and wilt thou not tell me what is come of the young lady who lay with me last night and who took her away?' The eunuch was affrighted at him and answered, 'By Allah, O my lord, I have seen neither girl nor boy!' His words only angered Kemerezzeman and he said to him, 'O accursed one, my father hath taught thee deceit! Come hither.'

So the eunuch came up to him, and the prince seized him by the collar and threw him to the ground. He let fly a crack of wind, and Kemerezzeman, kneeling upon him, kicked him and throttled him, till he fainted away. Then he tied him to the well-rope, and lowering him into the well, plunged him into the water, then drew him up and plunged him in again. Now it was hard winter weather, and Kemerezzeman ceased not to lower the eunuch into the water and pull him up again, whilst he screamed and called for help. Quoth the prince, 'By Allah, O accursed one, I will not draw thee up out of the well, till thou tell me the story of the young lady and who it was took her away, whilst I slept.' 'O my lord,' answered the eunuch, seeing death staring him in the face, 'let me go and I will tell thee the truth.' So Kemerezzeman pulled him up out of the well, all but dead for cold and wet and torture and beating and fear of drowning. His teeth chattered and he shook like the reed in the hurricane and his clothes were drenched and his body befouled and torn by the rough slimy sides of the well. When Kemerezzeman saw him in this sorry plight, he relented towards him; and as soon as the eunuch found himself on dry land, he said to him, 'O my lord, let me go and put off my clothes and wring them out and spread them in the sun to dry and don others; after which I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee the truth of the matter.' 'O wretched slave,' answered the prince, 'hadst thou not seen death face to face, thou hadst never confessed; but go now and do thy will, and after return speedily and tell me the truth.' So the eunuch went out, hardly crediting his escape, and gave not over running and stumbling, in his haste, till he came in to King Shehriman, whom he found sitting talking with his Vizier of Kemerezzeman's case and saying, 'I slept not last night, for anxiety concerning my son Kemerezzeman, and indeed I fear lest some harm befall him in that old tower.

What good was there in imprisoning him?' 'Have no care for him,'

answered the Vizier. 'By Allah, no hurt will befall him! Leave him in prison for a month, till his humour yield and his spirit be broken and he return to his senses.' As he spoke, in came the eunuch, in the aforesaid plight, and said to the King, who was troubled at sight of him, 'O our lord the Sultan, thy son's wits are fled and he has gone mad; he has dealt with me thus and thus, so that I am become as thou seest, and says, "A young lady lay with me this night and stole away whilst I slept. Where is she?"

And insists on my telling him where she is and who took her away.

But I have seen neither girl nor boy; the door was locked all night, for I slept before it, with the key under my head, and opened to him in the morning with my own hand.' When the King heard this, he cried out, saying, 'Alas, my son!' And he was sore enraged against the Vizier, who had been the cause of all this, and said to him, 'Go, bring me news of my son and see what hath befallen his wit.' So the Vizier rose and hastened with the slave to the tower, tumbling over his skirts, in his fear of the King's anger. The sun had now risen and when he came in to Kemerezzeman, he found him sitting on the couch, reading the Koran; so he saluted him and sitting down by his side, said to him, 'O my lord, this wretched slave brought us news that disquieted and alarmed us and incensed the King.' 'And what,'

asked Kemerezzeman, 'hath he told you of me, to trouble my father? In good sooth, he hath troubled none but me.' 'He came to us in a sorry plight,' answered the Vizier, 'and told us of thee a thing which G.o.d forfend and a lie which it befits not to repeat, may G.o.d preserve thy youth and sound wit and eloquent tongue and forbid aught of foul to come from thee!' 'O Vizier,'

said the prince, 'what did this pestilent slave say of me?' 'He told us,' replied the Vizier, 'thou hadst taken leave of thy wits and would have it that a young lady lay with thee last night and wast instant with him to tell thee whither she had gone and didst torture him to that end.' When Kemerezzeman heard this, he was sore enraged and said to the Vizier, 'It is manifest to me that you taught the eunuch to do as he did and forbade him to tell me what became of the young lady. But thou, O Vizier, art more reasonable than the eunuch; so do thou tell me forthright whither went the young lady that lay in my bosom last night; for it was you who sent her and bade her sleep in my arms, and we lay together till day; but when I awoke, I found her not. So where is she now?' 'O my lord Kemerezzeman,' said the Vizier, 'the name of G.o.d encompa.s.s thee! By Allah, we sent none to thee last night, but thou layest alone, with the door locked on thee and the eunuch sleeping before it, nor did there come to thee a young lady or any other. Stablish thy reason, O my lord, and return to thy senses and occupy thy mind no longer [with vain imaginations].' 'O Vizier,' rejoined Kemerezzeman, incensed at his words, 'the young lady in question is my beloved, the fair one with the black eyes and red cheeks, whom I held in my arms all last night.' The Vizier wondered at his words and said to him, 'Didst thou see this damsel with thine eyes and on wake, or in sleep?' 'O wretched old man,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'thinkest thou I saw her with my ears? Indeed, I saw her with my very eyes and on wake and touched her with my hand and watched by her half the night, gazing my fill on her beauty and grace and elegance and lovely looks. But thou hadst schooled her and charged her to speak no word to me; so she feigned sleep and I lay by her side till morning, when I awoke and found her gone.'

'O my lord Kemerezzeman,' rejoined the Vizier, 'surely thou sawest this in thy sleep; it must have been a delusion of dreams or a hallucination caused by eating various kinds of food or a suggestion of the accursed devils.' 'O pestilent old man,' cried the prince, 'wilt thou too make a mock of me and tell me this was an illusion of dreams, when this eunuch confessed to the young lady, saying, "I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee all about her?"' So saying, he sprang up and laying hold of the Vizier's long beard, twisted his hand in it and tugging him off the couch, threw him on the floor. It seemed to the Vizier as though his soul departed his body for the violent plucking at his beard, and Kemerezzeman fell to kicking him and pummelling his breast and sides and cuffing him on the nape, till he had well-nigh made an end of him. Then said the Vizier in himself, 'I must save myself from this madman by telling him a lie, even as did the eunuch; else he will kill me, for he is mad beyond a doubt.' So he said to Kemerezzeman, 'O my lord, bear me not malice, for indeed thy father charged me to conceal from thee this affair of the young lady; but now I am weak and weary and sore with beating; for I am an old man and lack strength to endure blows. So have a little patience with me and I will tell thee all.' When the prince heard this, he left beating him and said, 'Why couldst thou not tell me without blows and humiliation? Rise now, unlucky old man that thou art, and tell me her story.' Quoth the Vizier, 'Dost thou ask of the young lady with the fair face and perfect shape?' 'Yes,' answered Kemerezzeman. 'Tell me who it was laid her by my side and took her away by night, and let me know whither she is gone, that I may go to her. If my father did this to try me, with a view to our marriage, I consent to marry her and be quit of this trouble; for he only dealt thus with me, because I refused to marry. I say again, I consent to marry: so tell this to my father, O Vizier, and advise him to marry me to her, for I will have none other and my heart loveth her alone. Go now to my father and counsel him to hasten our marriage and bring me his answer forthright.' 'It is well,' rejoined the Vizier, and went out from him, hardly crediting his escape. Then he set off running and stumbling as he went, for excess of affright and agitation, till he came in to the King, who said to him, 'O Vizier, what has befallen thee and who has maltreated thee and how comes it that I see thee thus confounded and terrified?' 'O King,' answered the Vizier, 'I bring thee news.' 'What is it?' asked Shehriman, and the Vizier said, 'Know that thy son Kemerezzeman's wits are gone and that madness hath betided him.' When the King heard this, the light in his face became darkness and he said, 'Expound to me the nature of my son's madness.' 'O my lord,' answered the Vizier, 'I hear and obey.' Then he told him all that had pa.s.sed and the King said to him, 'O most ill-omened of Viziers and filthiest of Amirs, know that the reward I will give thee in return for this thy news of my son's madness shall be the cutting off of thy bead and the forfeiture of thy goods; for thou hast caused my son's disorder by the wicked and sinister counsel thou hast given me first and last. By Allah, if aught of mischief or madness have befallen him, I will nail thee upon the dome [of the palace] and make thee taste the bitterness of death!' Then rising, he betook himself with the Vizier to the tower, and when Kemerezzeman saw him, he came down to him in haste from the couch on which he sat and kissing his hands, drew back and stood before him awhile, with his eyes cast down and his hands clasped behind him. Then he raised his head and repeated the following verses, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks:

If I have borne myself blameworthily to you Or if I've made default in that which is your due, I do repent my fault; so let your clemency Th' offender comprehend, who doth for pardon sue.

When the King heard this, he embraced his son and kissing him between the eyes, made him sit by his side on the couch; then turned to the Vizier and looking on him with angry eyes, said to him, 'O dog of a Vizier, why didst thou tell me that my son was mad and make my heart quake for him?' Then he turned to the prince and said to him, 'O my son, what is to-day called?' 'O my father,' answered he, 'to-day is Sat.u.r.day and to-morrow Sunday: then come Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.' 'O my son, O Kemerezzeman,' exclaimed the King, 'praised be G.o.d for the preservation of thy reason! What is this present month called in Arabic?'

'Dhoulcaadeh,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'and it is followed by Dhoulhejjeh; then comes Muherrem, then Sefer, then Rebia the First and Rebia the Second, the two Jumadas, Rejeb, Shaaban, Ramazan and Shewwal.' At this the King rejoiced exceedingly and spat in the Vizier's face, saying, 'O wicked old man, how canst thou pretend that my son is mad? None is mad but thou.' The Vizier shook his head and would have spoken, but bethought himself to wait awhile and see what befell. Then the King said to Kemerezzeman, 'O my son, what is this thou sayest to the eunuch and the Vizier of a fair damsel that lay with thee last night? What damsel is this of whom thou speakest?' Kemerezzeman laughed at his father's words and replied, 'O my father, I can bear no more jesting; so mock me not with another word, for my humour is soured by that you have done with me. Let it suffice thee to know that I consent to marry, but on condition that thou give me to wife her with whom I lay yesternight; for I am a.s.sured that it was thou sentest her to me and madest me in love with her, then tookest her away from beside me before the dawn.' 'O my son,' rejoined the King, 'the name of G.o.d encompa.s.s thee and preserve thy wit from madness! What young lady is this of whom thou talkest? By Allah, O my son, I know nothing of the affair, and I conjure thee, tell me if it be a delusion of sleep or a hallucination caused by food? Doubtless, thou layest down to sleep last night, with thy mind occupied with marriage and troubled with the thought of it (may G.o.d curse marriage and the hour in which it occurred to me and him who counselled it!) and dreamtest that a handsome young lady embraced thee and didst fancy thou sawst her on wake; but all this, O my son, is but an illusion of dreams.' 'Leave this talk,' replied Kemerezzeman, 'and swear to me by G.o.d, the All-wise Creator, the Humbler of the mighty and the Destroyer of the Chosroes, that thou knowest nothing of the young lady nor of her abiding-place.' 'By the virtue of the Most High G.o.d,' said the King, 'the G.o.d of Moses and Abraham, I know nothing of all this and it is a.s.suredly but an illusion of dreams that thou hast seen in sleep.' Quoth the prince, 'I will give thee a proof that it was not a dream. Come, let me put a case to thee: did it ever happen to any to dream that he was fighting a sore battle and after to awake and find in his hand a sword besmeared with blood?' 'No, by Allah, O my son,' answered the King, 'this hath never been.' 'I will tell thee what happened to me,' rejoined Kemerezzeman. 'Meseemed I awoke from sleep in the middle of the past night and found a young lady lying by my side, whose shape and favour were as mine.

I embraced her and turned her about with my hand and took her ring, which I put on my finger, and she pulled off my ring and put it on her finger. Then I went to sleep by her side, but refrained from her and was ashamed to kiss her on the mouth, deeming that thou hadst sent her to me, with intent to tempt me with her and incline me to marriage, and mis...o...b..ing thee to be hidden somewhere whence thou couldst see what I did with her. At point of day, I awoke and found no trace of her, nor could I come at any news of her, and there befell me what thou knowest of with the eunuch and the Vizier. How then can this have been a dream and a delusion, seeing that the ring is a reality? I should indeed have deemed it a dream but for her ring on my finger.

Here it is: look at it, O King, and see what is its worth.' So saying, he handed the ring to his father, who examined it and turned it over, then said to his son, 'Verily, there hangs some mighty mystery by this ring and some strange secret. What befell thee last night is indeed a mysterious affair and I know not how this intruder came in upon us. None is the cause of all this trouble save the Vizier; but I conjure thee, O my son, to take patience, so haply G.o.d may do away this affliction from thee and bring thee complete relief: as quoth one of the poets:

It may be Fate at last shall draw its bridle-rein And bring us happy chance; for Fortune changes still; And things shall happen yet, despite the things fordone, To further forth my hopes and bring me to my will.

And now, O my son,' added he, 'I am certified that thou art not mad; but thy case is a strange one, none can unravel it for thee but G.o.d the Most High.' 'By Allah, O my father,' cried the prince, 'deal kindly with me and seek out this damsel and hasten her coming to me; else I shall die of grief.' And he repeated the following verses, in a voice that betrayed the ardour of his pa.s.sion:

An if thy very promise of union prove untrue, Let but in sleep thy favours the longing lover cheer.

"How can the phantom visit a lover's eyes," quoth they, "From which the grace of slumber is banned and banished sheer?"

And he sighed and wept and groaned aloud from a wounded heart, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes. Then turning to his father, with submission and despondency, he said to him, 'By Allah, O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from her even for an hour.' The King smote hand upon hand and exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in G.o.d, the Most High, the Sublime! There is no device can profit us in this affair!' Then he took his son by the hand and carried him to the palace, where Kemerezzeman lay down on the bed of languor and the King sat at his head, weeping and mourning over him and leaving him not night or day, till at last the Vizier came in to him and said, 'O King of the age and the time, how long wilt thou remain shut up with thy son and deny thyself to thy troops? Verily, the order of thy realm is like to be deranged, by reason of thine absence from thy grandees and officers of state. It behoves the man of understanding, if he have various wounds in his body, to apply him (first) to heal the most dangerous; so it is my counsel to thee that thou transport the prince to the pavilion overlooking the sea and shut thyself up with him there, setting apart Monday and Thursday in every week for state receptions and the transaction of public business. On these days let thine Amirs and Viziers and Chamberlains and deputies and captains and grandees and the rest of the troops and subjects have access to thee and submit their affairs to thee, and do thou their needs and judge between them and give and take with them and command and forbid. The rest of the week thou shalt pa.s.s with thy son Kemerezzeman, and thus do till G.o.d vouchsafe you both relief.

Think not, O King, that thou art exempt from the shifts of fortune and the strokes of calamity; for the wise man is still on his guard, as well saith the poet:

Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, whenas the days were fair, And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee might bring.

The nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wast deceived by them, For in the peace of night is born full many a troublous thing.

O all ye children of mankind, to whom the Fates are kind, Let caution ever have a part in all your reckoning.'

The King was struck with the Vizier's words and deemed his counsel wise and timely, fearing lest the order of the state be deranged; so he rose at once and bade carry his son to the pavilion in question, which was built (upon a rock) midmost the water and was approached by a causeway, twenty cubits wide. It had windows on all sides, overlooking the sea; its floor was of variegated marble and its roof was painted in the richest colours and decorated with gold and lapis-lazuli. They furnished it for Kemerezzeman with embroidered rugs and carpets of the richest silk and hung the walls with choice brocades and curtains bespangled with jewels. In the midst they set him a couch of juniper-wood, inlaid with pearls and jewels, and he sat down thereon, like a man that had been sick twenty years; for the excess of his concern and pa.s.sion for the young lady had wasted his charms and emaciated his body, and he could neither eat nor drink nor sleep. His father seated himself at his head, mourning sore for him, and every Monday and Thursday he gave his Viziers and Amirs and grandees and officers and the rest of his subjects leave to come in to him in the pavilion. So they entered and did their several service and abode with him till the end of the day, when they went their ways and he returned to his son, whom he left not night nor day; and on this wise did he many days and nights.

To return to the Princess Budour. When the two Afrits carried her back to her palace and laid her on her bed, she slept on till daybreak, when she awoke and sitting up, looked right and left, but saw not the youth who had lain in her bosom. At this, her heart was troubled, her reason fled and she gave a great cry, whereupon all her damsels and nurses and serving-women awoke and came in to her; and the chief of them said to her, 'What ails thee, O my lady?' 'O wretched old woman,' answered the princess, 'where is my beloved, the handsome youth that lay last night in my bosom? Tell me where he is gone.' When the old woman heard this, the light in her eyes became darkness and she was sore in fear of her mischief and said to her, 'O my lady Budour, what unseemly words are these?' 'Out on thee, pestilent crone that thou art!' cried the princess. 'Where is my beloved, the goodly youth with the shining face and the slender shape, the black eyes and the joined eyebrows, who lay with me last night from dusk until near daybreak?' 'By Allah, O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'I have seen no young man nor any other; but I conjure thee, leave this unseemly jesting, lest we be all undone.

Belike, it may come to thy father's ears and who shall deliver us from his hand?' 'I tell thee,' rejoined Budour, 'there lay a youth with me last night, one of the fairest-faced of men.' 'G.o.d preserve thy reason!' exclaimed the nurse. 'Indeed, no one lay with thee last night.' The princess looked at her hand and seeing her own ring gone and Kemerezzeman's ring on her finger in its stead, said to the nurse, 'Out on thee, thou accursed traitress, wilt thou lie to me and tell me that none lay with me last night and forswear thyself to me?' 'By Allah,' replied the nurse, 'I do not lie to thee nor have I sworn falsely!' Her words incensed the princess and drawing a sword she had by her, she smote the old woman with it and slew her; whereupon the eunuch and the waiting-women cried out at her and running to her father, acquainted him with her case. So he went to her forthright and said to her, 'O my daughter, what ails thee?' 'O my father,' answered she, 'where is the young man that lay with me last night?' Then her reason left her and she cast her eyes right and left and rent her dress even to the skirt. When the King saw this, he bade the women lay hands on her; so they seized and bound her, then putting a chain of iron about her neck, made her fast to the window and there left her. As for her father, the world was straitened upon him, when he saw what had befallen her, for that he loved her and her case was not a little thing to him. So he summoned the doctors and astrologers and magicians and said to them, 'Whoso cureth my daughter of her disorder, I will marry him to her and give him half my kingdom; but whoso cometh to her and cureth her not, I will strike off his head and hang it over her palace-gate.' Accordingly, all who went in to her, but failed to cure her, he beheaded and hung their heads over her palace-gate, till he had beheaded forty physicians and crucified as many astrologers on her account; wherefore all the folk held aloof from her, for all the physicians failed to cure her malady and her case was a puzzle to the men of science and the magicians. And as her longing and pa.s.sion redoubled and love and distraction were sore upon her, she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

My longing after thee, my moon, my foeman is; The thought of thee by night doth comrade with me dwell.

I pa.s.s the darksome hours, and in my bosom flames A fire, for heat that's like the very fire of h.e.l.l.

I'm smitten with excess of ardour and desire; By which my pain is grown an anguish fierce and fell.

Then she sighed and repeated these also:

My peace on the beloved ones, where'er they light them down! I weary for the neighbourhood of those I love, full sore.

My salutation unto you,--not that of taking leave, But greetings of abundant peace, increasing evermore!

For, of a truth, I love you dear and love your land no less; But woe is me! I'm far away from that I weary for.

Then she wept till her eyes grew weak and her cheeks pale and withered: and thus she abode three years. Now she had a foster-brother, by name Merzewan, who was absent from her all this time, travelling in far countries. He loved her with an exceeding love, pa.s.sing that of brothers; so when he came back, he went in to his mother and asked for his foster-sister the princess Budour. 'Alas, my son,' answered she, 'thy sister has been smitten with madness and has pa.s.sed these three years, with an iron chain about her neck; and all the physicians and men of science have failed of curing her.' When he heard this, he said, 'I must needs go in to her; peradventure I may discover what ails her, and be able to cure her.' 'So be it,' replied his mother; 'but wait till to-morrow, that I may make shift for thee.' Then she went to the princess's palace and accosting the eunuch in charge of the door, made him a present and said to him, 'I have a married daughter, who was brought up with thy mistress and is sore concerned for what has befallen her, and I desire of thy favour that my daughter may go in to her and look on her awhile, then return whence she came, and none shall know it.' 'This may not be, except by night,' replied the eunuch, 'after the King has visited the princess and gone away; then come thou and thy daughter.' She kissed the eunuch's hand and returning home, waited till the morrow at nightfall, when she dressed her son in woman's apparel and taking him by the hand, carried him to the palace. When the eunuch saw her, he said, 'Enter, but do not tarry long.' So they went in and when Merzewan saw the princess in the aforesaid plight, he saluted her, after his mother had taken off his woman's attire: then pulling out the books he had brought with him and lighting a candle, he began to recite certain conjurations. The princess looked at him and knowing him, said to him, 'O my brother, thou hast been absent on thy travels and we have been cut off from news of thee.' 'True,'

answered he; 'but G.o.d has brought me back in safety and I am now minded to set out again; nor has aught delayed me but the sad news I hear of thee; wherefore my heart ached for thee and I came to thee, so haply I may rid thee of thy malady.' 'O my brother,'

rejoined she, 'thinkest thou it is madness ails me?' 'Yes,'

answered he, and she said, 'Not so, by Allah! It is even as says the poet:

Quoth they, "Thou'rt surely mad for him thou lov'st;" and I replied, "Indeed the sweets of life belong unto the raving race.

Lo, those who love have not, for that, the upper hand of fate; Only the madman 'tis, I trow, o'ercometh time and s.p.a.ce.

Yes, I am mad; so bring me him for whom ye say I'm mad; And if he heal my madness, spare to blame me for my case."'

Then she told him that she was in love, and he said, 'Tell me thy story and what befell thee: peradventure G.o.d may discover to me a means of deliverance for thee.' 'Know then,' said she, 'that one night I awoke from sleep, in the last watch of the night, and sitting up, saw by my side the handsomest of youths, as he were a willow-wand or an Indian cane, the tongue fails to describe him.

Me-thought this was my father's doing to try me, for that he had consulted me, when the kings sought me of him in marriage, and I had refused. It was this idea that withheld me from arousing him, for I thought that if I did aught or embraced him, he would most like tell my father. When I awoke in the morning, I found his ring on my finger in place of my own, which he had taken; and, O my brother, my heart was taken with him at first sight; and for the violence of my pa.s.sion and longing, I have never since known the taste of sleep and have no occupation save weeping and repeating verses night and day. This, then, O my brother, is the story of the cause of my (pretended) madness.'

Then she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

Love has banished afar my delight; they are fled With a fawn that hath hearts for a pasturing-stead.

To him lovers' blood is a trifle, for whom My soul is a-wasting for pa.s.sion and dread.

I'm jealous for him of my sight and my thought; My heart is a spy on my eyes and my head.

His eyelashes dart at us death-dealing shafts; The hearts that they light on are ruined and dead.

Whilst yet there is left me a share in the world, Shall I see him, I wonder, or ever I'm sped?

I fain would conceal what I suffer for him; 'Tis shown to the spy by the tears that I shed.

When near, his enjoyment is distant from me: But his image is near, when afar he doth tread.

'See then, O my brother,' added she, 'how thou mayest aid me in this my affliction.' Merzewan bowed his head awhile, marvelling and knowing not what to do, then raised it and said to her, 'I believe all thou hast said to be true, though the case of the young man pa.s.ses my imagination: but I will go round about all countries and seek for what may heal thee; peradventure G.o.d shall appoint thy deliverance to be at my hand. Meanwhile, take patience and be not disquieted.' So saying, he took leave of her, after he had prayed that she might be vouchsafed constancy, and left her repeating the following verses:

Thine image in my thoughts fares as a pilgrim aye, For all thy stead and mine are distant many a day.

The wishes of my heart do bring thee near to me For 'gainst the speed of thought what is the levin's ray?

Depart thou not, that art the l.u.s.tre of mine eyes; Yea, when thou'rt far removed, all void of light are they.

He returned to his mother's house, where he pa.s.sed the night, and on the morrow, after furnishing himself for his journey, he set out and travelled from city to city and from island to island for a whole month. Everywhere he heard talk of the princess Budour's madness, till he came to a city named Teyreb and seeking news of the townsfolk, so haply he might light on a cure for his foster-sister's malady, heard that Kemerezzeman, son of King Shehriman, was fallen sick and afflicted with melancholy madness.

He enquired the name of this prince's capital and was told that it stood on the Islands of Khalidan and was distant thence a whole month's journey by sea and six by land. So he took pa.s.sage in a ship that was bound thither, and they sailed with a favouring breeze for a whole month, till they came in sight of the city and there remained for them but to enter the harbour; when there came out on them a tempestuous wind which carried away the masts and rent the canvas, so that the sails fell into the sea and the ship foundered, with all on board. Each looked to himself, and as for Merzewan, the current carried him under the King's palace, wherein was Kemerezzeman. As fate would have it, it was the day on which the King gave audience to his grandees and officers, and he was sitting, with his son's head in his lap, whilst an eunuch whisked away the flies. The prince had not spoken, neither had he eaten nor drunk for two days, and he was grown thinner than a spindle. Now the Vizier was standing near the window giving on the sea and raising his eyes, saw Merzewan at the last gasp for struggling with the waves; whereupon his heart was moved to pity for him and he drew near to the King and said to him, 'O King, I crave thy leave to go down to the court of the pavilion and open the water-gate, that I may rescue a man who is at the point of drowning in the sea and bring him forth of peril into deliverance; peradventure, on this account, G.o.d may ease thy son of his affliction.' 'O Vizier,' replied Shehriman, enough is that which has befallen my son through thee and on thine account. Belike, if thou rescue this drowning man, he will look on my son and come to know our affairs and exult over me; but I swear by Allah, that, if he come hither and see my son and after go out and speak of our secrets to any, I will a.s.suredly strike off thy head before his; for thou art the cause of all that hath befallen us, first and last. Now do as thou wilt.'

The Vizier rose and opening the postern, descended to the causeway; then walked on twenty steps and came to the sea, where he saw Merzewan nigh unto death. So he put out his hand to him and catching him by the hair of his head, drew him ash.o.r.e, in a state of unconsciousness, with belly full of water and eyes starting from his head. The Vizier waited till he came to himself, when he pulled off his wet clothes and clad him in a fresh suit, covering his head with one of his servants' turbans; after which he said to him, 'I have been the means of saving thee from drowning: do not thou requite me by causing my death and thine own.' 'How so?' asked Merzewan; and the Vizier answered, 'Thou art now about to go up and pa.s.s among Amirs and Viziers, all silent and speaking not, because of Kemerezzeman, the King's son.' When Merzewan heard the name of Kemerezzeman, he knew that this was he of whom he came in search, but he feigned ignorance and said to the Vizier, 'And who is Kemerezzeman?' Quoth the Vizier, 'He is the King's son and lies sick on his couch, restless, eating not nor drinking neither sleeping night nor day; indeed he is nigh upon death and we have lost hope of his recovery. Beware lest thou look too long on him or on any place other than that where thou settest thy feet: else thou art a lost man and I also.' 'O Vizier,' said Merzewan, 'I conjure thee by Allah, tell me of thy favour, the cause of this youth's malady.'

'I know none,' answered the Vizier, 'save that, three years ago, his father pressed him to marry, but he refused; whereat the King was wroth and imprisoned him. On the morrow, he would have it that he had had, for a bedfellow, the night before, a young lady of surpa.s.sing beauty, beggaring description, with whom he had exchanged rings; but we know not the meaning of all this. So by Allah, O my son, when thou comest up into the palace, look not on the prince, but go thy way; for the King's heart is full of anger against me.' 'By Allah,' said Merzewan in himself, 'this is he whom I sought!' Then he followed the Vizier up to the palace, where the latter seated himself at the prince's feet; but Merzewan must needs go up to Kemerezzeman and stand before him, gazing on him. At this, the Vizier was like to die of affright and signed to Merzewan to go his way; but he feigned not to see him and gave not over gazing upon Kemerezzeman, till he was a.s.sured that it was indeed he of whom he was in search. Then, 'Glory be to G.o.d,' cried he, 'who hath made his shape even as her shape and his complexion as her complexion and his cheek as her cheek!' At this Kemerezzeman opened his eyes and gave ear to his speech; and when Merzewan saw him listening, he repeated the following verses:

I see thee full of song and plaint and ecstasy amain, And to the setting forth in words of charms I find thee fain.

Can it be love hath wounded thee or art thou shot with shafts?

For sure these fashions but belong unto a smitten swain.

Ho, pour me out full cups of wine and sing me eke, in praise Of Tenam, Suleyma, Rebab,[FN#35] a glad and lovesome strain!

Yea, let the grape-vine's sun[FN#36] go round, whose mansion is its jar, Whose East the cupbearer and West my thirsty mouth I feign.

I'm jealous of the very clothes she dights upon her side, For that upon her body soft and delicate they've lain; And eke I'm envious of the cups that touch her dainty lips, When to the kissing-place she sets them ever and again.

Think not that I in anywise with sword am done to death; 'Tis by the arrows of a glance, alack! that I am slain.

Whenas we met again, I found her fingers dyed with red, As 'twere the juice of tragacanth had steeped them in its stain.

Said I to her, "Thou'st dyed thy palms,[FN#37] whilst I was far away. This then is how the slave of love is 'quited for his pain."

Quoth she (and cast into my heart the flaming fires of love, Speaking as one who hath no care love's secret to contain), "No, by thy life, this is no dye I've used! So haste thou not To heap accusings on my head and slander me in vain.

For, when I saw thee get thee gone upon our parting day, My eyes, for very dreariment, with tears of blood did rain.

I wiped them with my hand, and so my fingers with my blood Were all to-reddened and do yet their ruddy tint retain."

Had I for very pa.s.sion wept, or e'er my mistress did, I should, before repentance came, have solaced heart and brain; But she before my weeping wept; her tears drew mine and so Quoth I, "Unto the precedent the merit doth pertain."

Chide not at me for loving her, for by Love's self I swear, My heart with anguish for her sake is well-nigh cleft in twain.

I weep for one whose face is decked by Beauty's self; there's none, Arab or foreigner, to match with her, in hill or plain.