noontide rest, But as soon as he halts, the shade flits and
the cloud in the distance cloth flee.
When she heard this, she said, “Verily Kutheiyir was a poet of renown and a master of chaste eloquence and attained rare perfection in praise of Azzeh, especially when he says:
‘If Azzeh should before a judge the sun of morning cite, Needs
must the umpire doom to her the meed of beauty bright;
And women all, who come to me, at her to rail and flite, God make
your cheeks the sandal-soles whereon her feet alight!’
“And indeed it is reported,” added she, “that Azzeh was endowed with the extreme of beauty and grace.” Then she said to Sherkan, “O king’s son, dost thou know aught of Jemil’s verses to Butheineh?” “Yes,” replied he; “none knows Jemil’s verses better than I.” And he repeated the following:
“Up and away to the holy war, Jemil!” they say; and I, “What have
I to do with waging war except among the fair?”
For deed and saying with them alike are full of ease and cheer,
And he’s a martyr who tilts with them and falleth
fighting there.
If I say to Butheineh, “What is this love, that eateth my life
away?” She answers, “Tis rooted fast in thy heart and will
increase fore’er.”
Or if I beg her to give me back some scantling of my wit,
Wherewith to deal with the folk and live, she answereth,
“Hope it ne’er!”
Thou willst my death, ah, woe is me! thou willst nought else but
that; Yet I, I can see no goal but thee, towards which my
wishes fare.
“Thou hast done well, O king’s son,” said she, “and Jemil also did excellently well. But what would Butheineh have done with him that he says, ‘Thou wishest to kill me and nought else?’” “O my lady,” replied he, “she sought to do with him what thou seekest to do with me, and even that will not content thee.” She laughed at his answer, and they ceased not to carouse till the day departed and the night came with the darkness. Then she rose and went to her sleeping-chamber, and Sherkan slept in his place till the morning. As soon as he awoke, the damsels came to him with tambourines and other instruments of music, according to their wont, and kissing the earth before him, said to him, “In the name of God, deign to follow us; for our mistress bids thee to her.” So he rose and accompanied the girls, who escorted him, smiting on tabrets and other instruments of music, to another saloon, bigger than the first and decorated with pictures and figures of birds and beasts, passing description. Sherkan wondered at the fashion of the place and repeated the following verses:
My rival plucks, of the fruits of the necklets branching wide,
Pearls of the breasts in gold enchased and beautified
With running fountains of liquid silver in streams And cheeks of
rose and beryl, side by side.
It seemeth, indeed, as if the violet’s colour vied With the
sombre blue of the eyes, with antimony dyed.
When the lady saw Sherkan, she came to meet him, and taking him by the hand, said to him, “O son of King Omar ben Ennuman, hast thou any skill in the game of chess?” “Yes,” replied he; “but do not thou be as says the poet.” And he repeated the following verses:
I speak, and passion, the while, folds and unfolds me aye; But a
draught of the honey of love my spirits thirst could stay.
I sit at the chess with her I love, and she plays with me, With
white and with black; but this contenteth me no way.
Meseemeth as if the king were set in the place of the rook And
sought with the rival queens a bout of the game to play.
And if I looked in her eyes, to spy the drift of her moves, The
amorous grace of her glance would doom me to death
straightaway.
Then she brought the chess-board and played with him; but instead of looking at her moves, he looked at her face and set the knight in the place of the elephant and the elephant in the place of the knight. She laughed and said to him, “If this be thy play, thou knowest nothing of the game.” “This is only the first bout,” replied he; “take no count of it.” She beat him, and he replaced the pieces and played again with her; but she beat him a second time and a third and a fourth and a fifth. So she fumed to him and said, “Thou art beaten in everything.” “O my lady,” answered he, “how should one not be beaten, who plays with the like of thee?” Then she called for food, and they ate and washed their hands, after which the maids brought wine, and they drank. Presently, the lady took the dulcimer, for she was skilled to play thereon, and sang to it the following verses:
Fortune is still on the shift, now gladness and now woe; I liken
it to the tide, in its ceaseless ebb and flow.
So drink, if thou have the power, whilst it is yet serene, Lest
it at unawares depart, and thou not know.
They gave not over carousing till nightfall, and this day was pleasanter than the first. When the night came, the lady went to her sleeping-chamber, leaving Sherkan with the damsels. So he threw himself on the ground and slept till the morning, when the damsels came to him with tambourines and other musical instruments, according to their wont. When he saw them, he sat up; and they took him and carried him to their mistress, who came to meet him and taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her side. Then she asked him how he had passed the night, to which he replied by wishing her long life; and she took the lute and sang the following verses:
Incline not to parting, I pray, For bitter its taste is alway. The sun at his setting grows pale, To think he must part from the day.
Hardly had she made an end of singing, when there arose of a sudden a great clamour, and a crowd of men and knights rushed into the place, with naked swords gleaming in their hands, crying out in the Greek tongue, “Thou hast fallen into our hands, O Sherkan! Be sure of death!” When he heard this, he said to himself, “By Allah, she hath laid a trap for me and held me in play, till her men should come! These are the knights with whom she threatened me: but it is I who have thrown myself into this peril.” Then he turned to the lady to reproach her, but saw that she had changed colour; and she sprang to her feet and said to the new-comers, “Who are ye?” “O noble princess and unpeered pearl,” replied the knight their chief, “dost thou know who is this man with thee?” “Not I,” answered she. “Who is he?” Quoth the knight, “He is the despoiler of cities and prince of cavaliers, Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. This is he who captures the citadels and masters the most impregnable strengths. The news of him reached King Herdoub, thy father, by the report of the old princess Dhat ed Dewahi; and thou hast done good service to the army of the Greeks by helping them to lay hands on this pestilent lion.” When she heard this, she looked at the knight and said to him, “What is thy name?” And he answered, “My name is Masoureh son of thy slave Mousoureh ben Kasherdeh, chief of the nobles.” Quoth she, “And how camest thou in to me without my leave?” “O our lady,” replied he, “when I came to the gate, neither chamberlain nor porter offered me any hindrance; but all the gate-keepers rose and forewent me as of wont; though, when others come, they leave them standing at the gate, whilst they ask leave for them to enter. But this is no time for long talk, for the King awaits our return to him with this prince, who is the mainstay of the army of Islam, that he may kill him and that his troops may depart whence they came, without our having the toil of fighting them.” “Thou sayest an ill thing,” rejoined the princess. “Verily, the lady Dhat ed Dewahi lied; and she hath avouched a vain thing, of which she knows not the truth; for by the virtue of the Messiah, this man who is with me is not Sherkan, nor is he a captive, but a stranger, who came to us, seeking hospitality, and we received him as a guest. So, even were we assured that this was Sherkan and did we know that it was he beyond doubt, it would suit ill with my honour that I sh
ould deliver into your hands one who hath come under my safeguard. Betray me not, therefore, in the person of my guest, neither bring me into ill repute among men; but return to the King my father and kiss the earth before him and tell him that the case is not according to the report of the lady Dhat ed Dewahi.” “O Abrizeh,” replied the knight Masoureh, “I cannot go back to the King without his enemy.” Quoth she (and indeed she was angry), “Out on thee! Return to him with the answer, and no blame shall fall on thee.” But he said, “I will not return without him.” At this her colour changed and she exclaimed, “A truce to talk and idle words; for of a verity this man would not have come in to us, except he were assured that he could of himself make head against a hundred horse; and if I said to him, ‘Art thou Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman?’ he would answer, ‘Yes.’ Nathless, it is not in your power to hinder him; for if ye beset him, he will not turn back from you, till he have slain all that are in the place. Behold, he is with me and I will bring him before you, with his sword and buckler in his hands.” “If I be safe from thy wrath,” replied Masoureh, “I am not safe from that of thy father, and when I see him, I shall sign to the knights to take him prisoner, and we will carry him, bound and abject, to the King.” When she heard this, she said, “The thing shall not pass thus, for it would be a disgrace. This man is but one and ye are a hundred. So, an ye be minded to attack him, come out against him, one after one, that it may appear to the King which is the valiant amongst you.” “By the Messiah,” rejoined Masoureh, “thou sayest sooth, and none but I shall go out against him first!” Then she said, “Wait till I go to him and tell him and hear what he says. If he consent, it is well but if he refuse, ye shall not anywise come at him, for I and my damsels and all that are in the house will be his ransom.” So she went to Sherkan and told him the case, whereat he smiled and knew that she had not betrayed him, but that the matter had been bruited abroad, till it came to the King, against her wish. So he laid all the blame on himself, saying, “How came I to venture myself in the country of the Greeks?” Then he said to her, “Indeed, to let them tilt against me, one by one, were to lay on them a burden more than they can bear. Will they not come out against me, ten by ten?” “That were knavery and oppression,” replied she. “One man is a match for another.” When he heard this, he sprang to his feet and made towards them, with his sword and battle-gear; and Masoureh also sprang up and rushed on him. Sherkan met him like a lion and smote him with his sword upon the shoulder, that the blade came out gleaming from his back and vitals. When the princess saw this, Sherkan’s prowess was magnified in her eyes and she knew that she had not overthrown him by her strength, but by her beauty and grace. So she turned to the knights and said to them, “Avenge your chief!” Thereupon out came the slain man’s brother, a fierce warrior, and rushed upon Sherkan, who delayed not, but smote him on the shoulders, and the sword came out, gleaming, from his vitals. Then cried the princess, “O servants of the Messiah, avenge your comrades!” So they ceased not to come out against him, one by one, and he plied them with the sword, till he had slain fifty knights, whilst the princess looked on. And God cast terror into the hearts of those who were left, so that they held back and dared not meet him in single combat, but rushed on him all at once; and he drove at them with a heart firmer than a rock and smote them as the thresher smiteth the corn, till he had driven sense and life forth of them. Then the princess cried out to her damsels, saying, “Who is left in the monastery?” “None but the porters,” replied they; whereupon she went up to Sherkan and embraced him, and he returned with her to the saloon, after he had made an end of the mellay. Now there remained a few of the knights hidden in the cells of the convent, and when Abrizeh saw this, she rose and going away, returned, clad in a strait-ringed coat of mail and holding in her hand a scimitar of Indian steel. And she said, “By the virtue of the Messiah, I will not be grudging of myself for my guest nor will I abandon him, though for this I abide a reproach in the land of the Greeks!” Then she counted the dead and found that he had slain fourscore of the knights and other twenty had taken flight. When she saw how he had dealt with them, she said to him, “God bless thee, O Sherkan! The cavaliers may well glory in the like of thee!” Then he rose and wiping his sword of the blood of the slain, repeated the following verses:
How often in battle I’ve cleft the array And given the champions
to wild beasts a prey!
Ask all men what happened to me and to them, When I drove through
the ranks on the sword-smiting day.
I left ail their lions of war overthrown: On the sun-scorched
sands of those countries they lay.
When he had finished, the princess came up to him and kissed his hand; then she put off her coat of mail, and he said to her, “O my lady, wherefore didst thou don that coat of mail and bare thy sabre?” “It was of my care for thee against yonder wretches,” replied she. Then she called the porters and said to them, “How came you to let the king’s men enter my house, without my leave!” “O princess,” replied they, “we have not used to need to ask leave for the king’s messengers, and especially for the chief of the knights.” Quoth she, “I think you were minded to dishonour me and slay my guest.” And she bade Sherkan strike off their heads. He did so and she said to the rest of her servants, “Indeed, they deserved more than that.” Then turning to Sherkan, she said to him, “Now that there hath become manifest to thee what was hidden, I will tell thee my story. Know, then, that I am the daughter of Herdoub, King of Roum; my name is Abrizeh and the old woman called Dhat ed Dewahi is my grandmother, my father’s mother. She it was who told my father of thee, and she will certainly cast about to ruin me, especially as thou hast slain my father’s men and it is noised abroad that I have made common cause with the Muslims. Wherefore it were wiser that I should leave dwelling here, what while Dhat ed Dewahi is behind me; but I claim of thee the like kindness and courtesy I have shown thee, for my father and I are now become at odds on thine account. So do not thou omit to do aught that I shall say to thee, for indeed all this hath fallen out through thee.” At this, Sherkan was transported for joy and his breast dilated, and he said, “By Allah, none shall come at thee, whilst my life lasts in my body! But canst thou endure the parting from thy father and thy folk?” “Yes,” answered she. So Sherkan swore to her and they made a covenant of this. Then said she, “Now my heart is at ease; but there is one other condition I must exact of thee.” “What is that?” asked Sherkan. “It is,” replied she, “that thou return with thy troops to thine own country.” “O my lady,” said he, “my father, King Omar ben Ennuman, sent me to make war upon thy father, on account of the treasure he took from the King of Constantinople, and amongst the rest three great jewels, rich in happy properties.” “Reassure thyself,” answered she; “I will tell thee the truth of the matter and the cause of the feud between us and the King of Constantinople. Know that we have a festival called the Festival of the Monastery, for which each year the kings’ daughters of various countries and the wives and daughters of the notables and merchants resort to a certain monastery and abide there seven days. I was wont to resort thither with the rest; but when there befell hostility between us, my father forbade me to be present at the festival for the space of seven years. One year, it chanced that amongst the young ladies who resorted to the Festival as of wont, there came the King’s daughter of Constantinople, a handsome girl called Sufiyeh. They tarried at the monastery six days, and on the seventh, the folk went away; but Sufiyeh said, ‘I will not return to Constantinople, but by sea.’ So they fitted her out a ship, in which she embarked, she and her suite, and put out to sea; but as they sailed, a contrary wind caught them and drove the ship from her course, till, as fate and providence would have it, she fell in with a ship of the Christians from the Island of Camphor, with a crew of five hundred armed Franks, who had been cruising about for some time. When they sighted the sails of the ship in which were Sufiyeh and her maidens, they gave chase in all haste and
coming up with her before long, threw grapnels on board and made fast to her. Then they made all sail for their own island and were but a little distant from it, when the wind veered and rent their sails and cast them on to a reef on our coast. Thereupon we sallied forth on them, and looking on them as booty driven to us by fate, slew the men and made prize of the ships, in which we found the treasures and rarities in question and forty damsels, amongst whom was Sufiyeh. We carried the damsels to my father, not knowing that the King’s daughter of Constantinople was among them, and he chose out ten of them, including Sufiyeh, for himself, and divided the rest among his courtiers. Then he set apart Sufiyeh and four other girls and sent them to thy father, King Omar ben Ennuman, together with other presents, such as cloth and stuffs of wool and Grecian silks. Thy father accepted them and chose out from amongst the five girls the princess Sufiyeh, daughter of King Afridoun; nor did we hear aught more of the matter till the beginning of this year, when King Afridoun wrote to my father in terms which it befits not to repeat, reproaching and menacing him and saying to him, ‘Two years ago, there fell into thy hands a ship of ours, that had been seized by a company of Frankish corsairs and in which was my daughter Sufiyeh, attended by near threescore damsels. Yet thou sentest none to tell me of this and I could not make the case public, lest disgrace fall on my repute among the kings, by reason of my daughter’s dishonour. So I kept the affair secret till this year, when I communicated with certain of the Frankish pirates and sought news of my daughter from the kings of the islands. They replied, “By Allah, we carried her not forth of thy realm, but we have heard that King Herdoub took her from certain pirates.” And they told me all that had befallen her. So now, except thou wish to be at feud with me and design to disgrace me and dishonour my daughter, thou wilt forthright, as soon as this letter reaches thee, send my daughter back to me. But if thou pay no heed to my letter and disobey my commandment, I will assuredly requite thee thy foul dealing and the baseness of thine acts.’ When my father read this letter, it was grievous to him and he regretted not having known that Sufiyeh, King Afridoun’s daughter, was amongst the captured damsels, that he might have sent her back to her father; and he was perplexed about the affair, for that, after the lapse of so long a time, he could not send to King Omar ben Ennuman and demand her back from him, the more that he had lately heard that God had vouchsafed him children by this very Sufiyeh. So when we considered the matter, we knew that this letter was none other than a great calamity; and nothing would serve but that my father must write an answer to it, making his excuses to King Afridoun and swearing to him that he knew not that his daughter was among the girls in the ship and setting forth how he had sent her to King Omar ben Ennuman and God had vouchsafed him children by her. When my father’s reply reached King Afridoun, he rose and sat down and roared and foamed at the mouth, exclaiming, ‘What! shall he make prize of my daughter and she become a slave-girl and be passed from hand to hand and sent for a gift to kings, and they lie with her without a contract? By the virtue of the Messiah and the true faith, I will not desist till I have taken my revenge for this and wiped out my disgrace, and indeed I will do a deed that the chroniclers shall chronicle after me.’ So he took patience till he had devised a plot and laid great snares, when he sent an embassy to thy father King Omar, to tell him that which thou hast heard so that thy father equipped thee and an army with thee and sent thee to him, Afridoun’s object being to lay hold of thee and thine army with thee. As for the three jewels of which he told thy father, he spoke not the truth of them; for they were with Sufiyeh and my father took them from her, when she fell into his hands, she and her maidens, and gave them to me, and they are now with me. So go thou to thy troops and turn them back, ere they fare farther into the land of the Franks and the country of the Greeks; for as soon as you are come far enough into the inward of the country, they will stop the roads upon you, and there will be no escape for you from their hands till the day of rewards and punishments. I know that thy troops are still where thou leftest them, because thou didst order them to halt there three days; and they have missed thee all this time and know not what to do.” When Sherkan heard her words, he was absent awhile in thought then he kissed Abrizeh’s hand and said, “Praise be to God who hath bestowed thee on me and appointed thee to be the cause of my salvation and that of those who are with me! But it is grievous to me to part from thee and I know not what will become of thee after my departure.” Quoth she, “Go now to thy troops and lead them back, whilst ye are yet near your own country. If the ambassadors are still with them, lay hands on them, that the case may be made manifest to thee, and after three days I will rejoin thee and we will all enter Baghdad together; but forget thou not the compact between us.” Then she rose to bid him farewell and assuage the fire of longing; so she took leave of him and embraced him and wept sore; whereupon passion and desire were sore upon him and he also wept and repeated the following verses:
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