Fate launched at me a dart, the arrow of an eye; It pierced me
and cut off from those I love am I.
Fortune hath mauled me sore and patience fails me now; But long
have I forebode misfortune drawing nigh.
When Ali ben Bekkar heard this, he fell to the earth in a swoon and abode thus till daybreak, and Aboulhusn despaired of him. But, with the dawning, he came to himself and sought to go home; nor could Aboulhusn deny him, for fear of the issue of his affair. So he made his servants bring a mule and mounting Ali thereon, carried him to his lodging, he and one of his men. When he was safe at home, the merchant thanked God for his deliverance from that peril and sat awhile with him, comforting him; but Ali could not contain himself, for the violence of his passion and love-longing. Presently Aboulhusn rose to take leave of him and Ali said, ‘O my brother, leave me not without news.’ ‘I hear and obey, answered Aboulhusn, and repairing to his shop, opened it and sat there all day, expecting news of Shemsennehar; but none came. He passed the night in his own house and when it was day, he went to Ali ben Bekkar’s lodging and found him laid on his bed, with his friends about him and physicians feeling his pulse and prescribing this or that. When he saw Aboulhusn, he smiled, and the latter saluting him, enquired how he did and sat with him till the folk withdrew, when he said to him, ‘What plight is this?’ Quoth Ali, ‘It was noised abroad that I was ill and I have no strength to rise and walk, so as to give the lie to the report of my sickness, but continue lying here as thou seest. So my friends heard of me and came to visit me. But, O my brother, hast thou seen the damsel or heard any news of her?’ ‘I have not seen her,’ answered Aboulhusn, ‘since we parted from her on the Tigris’ bank; but, O my brother, beware of scandal and leave this weeping.’ ‘O my brother,’ rejoined Ali, ‘indeed, I have no control over myself ;’ and he sighed and recited the following verses:
She giveth unto her hand that whereof mine doth fail, A dye on
the wrist, wherewith she doth my patience assail
She standeth in fear for her hand of the arrows she shoots from
her eyes; So, for protection, she’s fain to clothe it in
armour of mail.
The doctor in ignorance felt my pulse, and I said to him, “Leave
thou my hand alone; my heart it is that doth ail.”
Quoth she to the dream of the night, that visited me and fled,
“By Allah, describe him to me and bate me no jot of the
tale!”
It answered, “I put him away, though he perish of thirst, and
said, ‘Stand off from the watering-place!’ So he could not
to drink avail.”
She poured forth the pearls of her tears from her eyes’ narcissus
and gave The rose of her cheeks to drink and bit upon
jujubes with hail.
Then he said, ‘O Aboulhusn, I am smitten with an affliction, from which I deemed myself in surety, and there is no greater ease for me than death.’ ‘Be patient,’ answered his friend: ‘peradventure God will heal thee.’ Then he went out from him and repairing to his shop, opened it, nor had he sat long, when up came Shemsennehar’s hand-maid, who saluted him. He returned her salute and looking at her, saw that her heart was palpitating and that she was troubled and bore the traces of affliction: so he said to her, ‘Thou art welcome. How is it with Shemsennehar?’ ‘I will tell thee,’ answered she; ‘but first tell me how doth Ali ben Bekkar.’ So he told her all that had passed, whereat she was grieved and sighed and lamented and marvelled at his case. Then said she, ‘My lady’s case is still stranger than this; for when you went away, I turned back, troubled at heart for you and hardly crediting your escape, and found her lying prostrate in the pavilion, speaking not nor answering any, whilst the Commander of the Faithful sat by her head, unknowing what aided her and finding none who could give him news of her. She ceased not from her swoon till midnight, when she revived and the Khalif said to her, “What ails thee, O Shemsennehar, and what has behllen thee this night?” “May God make me thy ransom, O Commander of the Faithful!” answered she. “Verily, bile rose in me and lighted a fire in my body, so that I lost my senses for excess of pain, and I know no more.” “What hast thou eaten to-day?” asked the Khalif. Quoth she, “I broke my fast on something I had never before eaten.” Then she feigned to be recovered and calling for wine, drank it and begged the Khalif to resume his diversion. So he sat down again on his couch in the pavilion and made her sit as before. When she saw me, she asked me how you fared; so I told her what I had done with you and repeated to her the verses that Ali ben BeLkar had recited at parting, whereat she wept secretly, but presently stinted. After awhile, the Khalif ordered a damsel to sing, and she chanted the following verses:
Life, as I live, has not been sweet since I did part from thee;
Would God I knew but how it fared with thee too after me!
If thou be weeping tears of brine for sev’rance of our loves, Ah,
then, indeed, ‘twere meet my tears of very blood should be.
When my lady heard this, she fell back on the sofa in a swoon, and I seized her hand and sprinkled rose-water on her face, till she revived, when I said to her, “O my lady, do not bring ruin on thyself and on all thy house-hold, but be patient, by the life of thy beloved!” “Can aught befall me worse than death?” answered she. “That, indeed, I long for, for, by Allah, my ease is therein.” Whilst we were talking, another damsel sang the following words of the poet:
“Patience shall peradventure lead to solacement,” quoth they; and
I, “Where’s patience to be had, now he is gone away?”
He made a binding covenant with me to cut the cords Of patience,
when we two embraced upon the parting day.
When Shemsennehar heard this, she swooned away once more, which when the Khalif saw, he came to her in haste and commanded the wine-service to be removed and each damsel to return to her chamber. He abode with her the rest of the night, and when it was day, he sent for physicians and men of art and bade them medicine her, knowing not that her sickness arose from passion and love-longing. He tarried with her till he deemed her in a way of recovery, when he returned to his palace, sore concerned for her illness, and she bade me go to thee and bring her news of Ali ben Bekkar. So I came, leaving with her a number of her bodywomen; and this is what has delayed me from thee.’ When Aboulhusn heard her story, he marvelled and said, ‘By Allah, I have acquainted thee with his whole case; so now return to thy mistress; salute her for me and exhort her to patience and secrecy and tell her that I know it to be a hard matter and one that calls for prudent ordering.’ She thanked him and taking leave of him, returned to her mistress, whilst he abode in his place till the end of the day, when he shut the shop and betaking himself to Ali ben Bekkar’s house, knocked at the door. One of the servants came out and admitted him; and when Ali saw him, he smiled and re-joiced in his coming, saying, ‘O Aboulhusn, thou hast made a weary man of me by thine absence from me this day; for indeed my soul is pledged to thee for the rest of my days.’ ‘Leave this talk,’ answered the other. ‘Were thy healing at the price of my hand, I would cut it off, ere thou couldst ask me; and could I ransom thee with my life, I had already laid it down for thee. This very day, Shemsennehar’s handmaid has been with me and told me that what hindered her from coming before this was the Khalif’s sojourn with her mistress;’ and he went on to repeat to him all that the girl had told him of Shemsennehar; at which Ali lamented sore and wept and said to him, ‘O my brother, I conjure thee by God to help me in this mine affliction and teach me how I shall do! Moreover, I beg thee of thy grace to abide with me this night, that I may have the solace of thy company.’ Aboulhusn agreed to this; so they talked together till the night darkened, when Ali groaned aloud and lamented and wept copious tears, reciting the following verses:
My eye holds thine image ever; thy name in my mouth is aye And
still in my heart is thy sojourn;
so how canst thou absent
be?
How sore is my lamentation for life that passes away Nor is
there, alas! in union a part for thee and me!
And also these:
She cleft with the sword of her glance the helm of my courage in
two And the mail of my patience she pierced with the spear
of her shape through and through.
She unveiled to us, under the musk of the mole that is set on her
cheek, carnphor-whlte dawning a-break through a night of the
ambergris’ hue.
Her spirit was stirred to chagrin and she bit on cornelian
with pearls, Whose unions unvalued abide in a lakelet
of sugary dew.
She sighed for impatience and smote with her palm on the snows of
her breast. Her hand left a scar; so I saw what never before
met my view;
Pens fashioned of coral (her nails), that, dinting the book of
her breast Five lines, scored in ambergris ink, on a table
of crystal drew,
O ye that go girded with steel, O swordsmen, I rede you beware Of
the stroke of her death-dealing eyes, that never looked yet
but they slew!
And guard yourselves, ye of the spears, and fence off her thrust
from your hearts, If she tilt with the quivering lance of
her shape straight and slender at you.
Then he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon. Aboulhusn thought that his soul had departed his body and he ceased not from his swoon till daybreak, when he came to himself and talked with his friend, who sat with him till the forenoon. Then he left him and repaired to his shop. Hardly had he opened it, when the damsel came and stood before him. As soon as he saw her, she made a sign of salutation to him, which he returned; and she greeted him for her mistress, saying, ‘How doth Ali ben BeLkar?’ ‘O good damsel,’ replied he, ‘ask me not how he doth nor what he suffers for excess of passion; for he sleeps not by night neither rests by day; wakefulness wasteth him and affliction hath gotten the mastery of him and his case is distressful to his friend.’ Quoth she, ‘My lady salutes thee and him, and indeed she is in worse case than he. She hath written him a letter and here it is. When she gave it me, she said to me, “Do not return save with the answer.” So wilt thou go with me to him and get his reply?’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered Aboulhusn, and shutting his shop, carried her, by a different way to that by which he came, to Ali ben Bekkar’s house, where he left her standing at the door and entered. When Ali saw him, he rejoiced, and Aboulhusn said to him, ‘The reason of my coming is that such an one hath sent his handmaid to thee with a letter, containing his greeting to thee and excusing himself for that he hath tarried by reason of a certain matter that hath betided him. The girl stands even now at the door: shall she have leave to enter?’ And he signed to him that it was Shemsennehar’s slave-girl. Ali understood his sign and answered, ‘Bring her in.’ So she entered and when he saw her, he shook for joy and signed to her, as who should say, ‘How doth thy lord, may God grant him health and recovery!’ ‘He is well,’ answered she and pulling out the letter, gave it to him. He took it and kissing it, opened and read it; after which he handed it to Aboulhusn, who found written therein what follows:
The messenger of me will give thee news aright; So let his true
report suffice thee for my sight.
A lover hast thou left, for love of thee distraught; Her eyes
cease never-more from watching, day or night.
I brace myself to bear affliction, for to foil The buffets of
ill-fate is given to no wight.
But be thou of good cheer; for never shall my heart Forget thee
nor thy thought be absent from my spright.
Look on thy wasted frame and what is fallen thereon And thence
infer of me and argue of my plight.
To proceed: I have written thee a letter without fingers and speak to thee without tongue; to tell thee my whole state, I have an eye from which sleeplessness is never absent and a heart whence sorrowful thought stirs not. It is with me as I had never known health nor let sadness, neither beheld a fair face nor spent an hour of pleasant life; but it is as I were made up of love-longing and of the pain of passion and chagrin. Sickness is unceasing upon me and my yearning redoubles ever; desire increases still and longing rages in my heart. I pray God to hasten our union and dispel the trouble of my mind: and I would fain have thee write me some words, that I may solace myself withal. Moreover, I would have thee put on a becoming patience, till God give relief; and peace be on thee.’ When Ali ben Bekkar had read this letter, he said, ‘With what hand shall I write and with what tongue shall I make moan and lament? Indeed she addeth sickness to my sickness and draweth death upon my death!’ Then he sat up and taking inkhorn and paper, wrote the following reply: ‘In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. O my lady, thy letter hath reached me and hath given ease to a mind worn out with passion and desire and brought healing to a wounded heart, cankered with languishment and sickness; for indeed I am become even as saith the poet:
Bosom contracted and grievous thought dilated, Eyes ever wakeful
and body wearied aye;
Patience cut off and separation ever present, Reason disordered
and heart all stolen away.
Know that complaining quenches not the fire of calamity; but it eases him whom love-longing consumes and separation destroys; and so I comfort myself with the mention of the word “union;” for how well saith the poet:
If love had not pain and pleasure, satisfaction and despite,
Where of messengers and letters were for lovers the
delight?’
When he had made an end of this letter, he gave it to Aboulhusn, saying, ‘Read it and give it to the damsel.’ So he took it and read it and its words stirred his soul and its meaning wounded his vitals. Then he gave it to the girl, and Ali said to her, ‘Salute thy lady for me and tell her of my passion and longing and how love is blent with my flesh and my bones; and say to her that I need one who shall deliver me from the sea of destruction and save me from this dilemma; for of a truth fortune oppresseth me with its vicissitudes; and is there any helper to free me from its defilements?’ So saying, he wept and the damsel wept for his weeping. Then she took leave of him and Aboulhusn went out with her and bade her farewell. So she went her way and he returned to his shop, which he opened, and sat down there, according to his wont; but as he sat, he found his bosom straitened and his heart oppressed and was troubled about his case. He ceased not from melancholy thought the rest of that day and night, and on the morrow he betook himself to Ali ben Bekkar, with whom he sat till the folk withdrew, when he asked him how he did. Ali began to complain of passion and descant upon the longing and distraction that possessed him, ending by repeating the following words of the poet:
Folk have made moan of passion before me of past years, And live
and dead for absence have suffered pains and fears;
But what within my bosom I harbour, with mine eyes I’ve never
seen the like of nor heard it with mine ears.
And also these:
I’ve suffered for thy love what Caïs, that madman hight,
Did never undergo for love of Leila bright.
Yet chase I not the beasts o’ the desert, as did he; For madness
hath its kinds for this and th’ other wight.
Quoth Aboulhusn, ‘Never did I see or hear of one like unto thee in thy love! If thou sufferest all this transport and sickness and trouble, being enamoured of one who returns thy passion, how would it be with thee, if she whom thou lovest were contrary and perfidious? Meseems, thy case will be discovered, if thou abide thus.’ His words pleased Ali ben Bekkar and he trusted in him and thanked him.
Now Aboulhusn had a friend, to whom he had discovered his affair and that of Ali ben Bekkar and who knew that they were cl
ose friends; but none other than he was acquainted with what was betwixt them. He was wont to come to him and enquire how Ali did and after a little, he began to ask about the damsel; but Aboulhusn put him off, saying, ‘She invited him to her and there was between him and her what passeth words, and this is the end of their affair; but I have devised me a plan which I would fain submit to thy judgment.’ ‘And what is that?’ asked his friend. ‘O my brother,’ answered Aboulhusn, ‘I am a man well known, having much dealing among the notables, both men and women, and I fear lest the affair of these twain get wind and this lead to my death and the seizure of my goods and the ruin of my repute and that of my family. Wherefore I purpose to get together my property and make ready forthright and repair to the city of Bassora and abide there, till I see what comes of their affair, that none may know of me, for passion hath mastered them and letters pass between them. Their go-between and confidant at this present is a slave-girl, who hath till now kept their counsel, but I fear lest haply she be vexed with them or anxiety get the better of her and she discover their case to some one and the matter be noised abroad and prove the cause of my ruin; for I have no excuse before God or man.’ ‘Thou acquaintest me with a perilous matter,’ rejoined his friend, ‘and one from the like of which the wise and understanding will shrink in affright. May God preserve thee and avert from thee the evil thou dreadest! Assuredly, thy resolve is a wise one.’ So Aboulhusn returned home and betook himself to setting his affairs in order and preparing for his journey; nor had three days elapsed ere he made an end of his business and departed for Bassora. Three days after, his friend came to visit him, but finding him not, asked the neighbours of him; and they answered, ‘He set out three days ago for Bassora, for he had dealings with merchants there and is gone thither to collect his debts; but he will soon return.’ The man was confounded at the news and knew not whither to go; and he said in himself, ‘Would I had not parted with Aboulhusn!’ Then he bethought him how he should gain access to Ali ben Bekkar and repairing to the latter’s lodging, said to one of his servants, ‘Ask leave for me of thy master that I may go in and salute him.’ So the servant went in and told his master and presently returning, invited the man to enter. So he went in and found Ali ben Bekkar lying back on the pillow and saluted him. Ali returned his greeting and bade him welcome; whereupon the other began to excuse himself for having held aloof from him all this while and added, ‘O my lord, there was a close friendship between Aboulhusn and myself, so that I used to trust him with my secrets and could not brook to be severed from him an hour. It chanced but now that I was absent three days’ space on certain business with a company of my friends, and when I came back, I found his shop shut; so I asked the neighbours of him and they replied, “He is gone to Bassora.” Now I know he had no surer friend than thou; so I conjure thee, by Allah, to tell me what thou knowest of him.’ When Ali heard this, his colour changed and he was troubled and answered, ‘I never heard of his departure till this day, and if it be as thou sayest, weariness is come upon me.’ And he repeated the following verses:
One Thousand and One Nights Page 239