When it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-second Night,
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din, after donning his own dress and taking the ten dirhams from the ancient dame, fared forth to the market streets and wandered about a while till he knew every quarter of the city, after which he returned to the church518 and saw the Princess Miriam the Girdle-girl, daughter of the King of France come up to the fane, attended by four hundred damsels, high-bosomed maids like moons, amongst whom was the daughter of the one-eyed Wazir and those of the Emirs and Lords of the realm; and she walked in their midst as she were moon among stars. When his eyes fell upon her Nur al-Din could not contain himself, but cried out from the core of his heart, “O Miriam! O Miriam!” When the damsels heard his outcry they ran at him with swords shining bright like flashes of leven-light and would have slain him forthright. But the Princess turned and looking on him, knew him with fullest knowledge, and said to her maidens, “Leave this youth; doubtless he is mad, for the signs of madness be manifest on his face.” When Nur al-Din heard this, he uncovered his head and rolled his eyes and made signs with his hands and twisted his legs, foaming the while at the mouth. Quoth the Princess, “Said I not that the poor youth was mad? Bring him to me and stand off from him, that I may hear what he saith; for I know the speech of the Arabs and will look into his case and see if his madness admit of cure or not.” So they laid hold of him and brought him to her; after which they withdrew to a distance and she said to him, “Hast thou come hither on my account and ventured thy life for my sake and feignest thyself mad?” He replied, “O my lady, hast thou not heard the saying of the poet?,519
‘Quoth they, ‘Thou’rt surely raving mad for her thou lov’st;’ and
I, ‘There is no pleasantness in life but for the mad,’
reply.
Compare my madness with herself for whom I rave; if she Accord
therewith, then blame me not for that which I aby.’”
Miriam replied, “By Allah, O Nur al-Din, indeed thou hast sinned against thyself, for I warned thee of this before it befell thee: yet wouldst thou not hearken to me, but followedst thine own lust: albeit that whereof I gave thee to know I learnt not by means of inspiration nor physiognomy520 nor dreams, but by eye-witness and very sight; for I saw the one-eyed Wazir and knew that he was not come to Alexandria but in quest of me.” Said he, “O my lady Miriam, we seek refuge with Allah from the error of the intelligent!”521 Then his affliction redoubled on him and he recited this saying,522
“Pass o’er my fault, for ’tis the wise man’s wont
Of other’s sins to take no harsh account;
And as all crimes have made my breast their site,
So thine all shapes of mercy should unite.
Who from above would mercy seek to know,
Should first be merciful to those below.”
Then Nur al-Din and Princess Miriam ceased not from lovers’ chiding which to trace would be tedious, relating each to other that which had befallen them and reciting verses and making moan, one to other, of the violence of passion and the pangs of pine and desire, whilst the tears ran down their cheeks like rivers, till there was left them no strength to say a word and so they continued till day deprated and night darkened. Now the Princess was clad in a green dress, purfled with red gold and broidered with pearls and gems which enhanced her beauty and loveliness and inner grace; and right well quoth the poet of her,523
“Like the full moon she shineth in garments all of green, With
loosened vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.
‘What is thy name?’ I asked her, and she replied, ‘I’m she Who
roasts the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen.
I am the pure white silver, ay, and the gold wherewith The
bondsmen from strait prison and dour releasčd been.’
Quoth I, ‘I’m all with rigours consumed;’ but ‘On a rock,’ Said
she, ‘such as my heart is, thy plaints are wasted clean.’
‘Even if thy heart,’ I answered, ‘be rock in very deed, Yet hath
God caused fair water well from the rock, I ween.’”
And when night darkened on them the Lady Miriam went up to her women and asked them, “Have ye locked the door?”; and they answered, “Indeed we have locked it.” So she took them and went with them to a place called the Chapel of the Lady Mary the Virgin, Mother of Light, because the Nazarenes hold that there are her heart and soul. The girls betook themselves to prayer for blessings from above and circuited all the church; and when they had made an end of their visitation, the Princess turned to them and said, “I desire to pass the night alone in the Virgin’s chapel and seek a blessing thereof, for that yearning after it hath betided me, by reason of my long absence in the land of the Moslems; and as for you, when ye have made an end of your visitation, do ye sleep whereso ye will.” Replied they, “With love and goodly gree: be it as thou wilt!”; and leaving her alone in the chapel, dispersed about the church and slept. The Lady Miriam waited till they were out of sight and hearing, then went in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found sitting in a corner on live coals, awaiting her. He rose and kissed her hands and feet and she sat down and seated him by her side. Then she pulled off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and fine linen and taking Nur al-Din in her arms strained him to her bosom. And they ceased not, she and he, from kissing and clipping and strumming to the tune of “hocus-pocus,”524 saying the while, “How short are the nights of Union and the nights of Disunion how long are they!” and reciting these verses,
“O Night of Union, Time’s virginal prized, * White star of the
Nights with auroral dyes,
Thou garrest Dawn after Noon to rise * Say art thou Kohl in
Morning’s Eyes,
Or wast thou Slumber to bleared eye lief?
O Night of Parting, how long thy stay * Whose latest hours aye
the first portray,
This endless circle that noways may * Show breach till the coming
of Judgment-day,
Day when dies the lover of parting-grief.”525
As they were in this mighty delight and joy engrossing they heard one of the servants of the Saint526 smite the gong527 upon the roof, to call the folk to the rites of their worship, and he was even as saith the poet,
“I saw him strike the gong and asked of him straightway, * Who
made the Fawn528 at striking going so knowing, eh?’
And to my soul, ‘What smiting irketh thee the more — * Striking
the gong or striking note of going,529 say?’”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
When it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-third Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl rose forthwith and donned her clothes and ornaments; but this was grievous to Nur al-Din, and his gladness was troubled; the tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,
“I ceasčd not to kiss that cheek with budding roses dight * And
eyes down cast and bit the same with most emphatic bite;
Until we were in gloria530 and lay him down the spy * And
sank his eyes within his brain declining further sight:
And struck the gongs as they that had the charge of them were
like * Muezzin crying duty-prayers in Allah’s book indite.
Then rose she up right hastily and donned the dress she’d doffed
* Sore fearing lest a shooting-star531 upon our heads
alight.
And cried, ‘O wish and will of me, O end of all my hopes! *
Behold the morning comes to us in brightest whitest light.’
I swear if but one day of rule were given to my life * And I were
made an Emperor of majesty and might,
Adown I’d break the buttresses of churches one and all * And by
th
eir slaughter rid the earth of every shaveling wight.”
Then the Lady Miriam pressed him to her bosom and kissed his cheek and asked him, “O Nur al-Din, how long hast thou been in this town?” “Seven days.” “Hast thou walked about in it, and dost thou know its ways and issues and its sea-gates and land gates?” “Yes!” “Knowest thou the way to the offertory-chest532 of the church?” “Yes!” “Since thou knowest all this, as soon as the first third533 of the coming night is over, go to the offertory-chest and take thence what thou wishest and willest. Then open the door that giveth upon the tunnel534 leading to the sea, and go down to the harbour, where thou wilt find a little ship and ten men therein, and when the Rais shall see thee, he will put out his hand to thee. Give him thy hand and he will take thee up into the ship, and do thou wait there till I come to thee. But ‘ware and have a care lest sleep overtake thee this night, or thou wilt repent whenas repentance shall avail thee naught.” Then the Princess farewelled him and going forth from Nur al-Din, aroused from sleep her women and the rest of the damsels, with whom she betook herself to the church door and knocked; whereupon the ancient dame opened to her and she went forth and found the knights and varlets standing without. They brought her a dapple she-mule and she mounted: whereupon they raised over her head a canopy535 with curtains of silk, and the knights took hold of the mule’s halter. Then the guards536 encompassed her about, drawn brand in hand, and fared on with her, followed by her, till they brought her to the palace of the King her father. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din abode concealed behind the curtain, under cover of which Miriam and he had passed the night, till it was broad day, when the main door was opened and the church became full of people. Then he mingled with the folk and accosted the old Prioress, the guardian537 of the shrine, who said to him, “Where didst thou lie last night?” Said he, “In the town as thou badest me.” Quoth she, “O my son, thou hast done the right thing; for, hadst thou nighted in the Church, she had slain thee on the foulest wise.” And quoth he, “Praised be Allah who hath delivered me from the evil of this night!” Then he busied himself with the service of the church and ceased not busying till day departed and night with darkness starkened when he arose and opened the offertory-chest and took thence of jewels whatso was light of weight and weighty of worth. Then he tarried till the first watch of the night was past, when he made his way to the postern of the tunnel and opening it, went forth, calling on Allah for protection, and ceased not faring on until, after finding and opening the door, he came to the sea. Here he discovered the vessel moored to the shore near the gate; and her skipper, a tall old man of comely aspect with a long beard, standing in the waist, his ten men being ranged before him. Nur al-Din gave him his hand, as Miriam had bidden him, and the captain took it and pulling him on board of the ship cried out to his crew, saying, “Cast off the moorings and put out to sea with us, ere day break.” Said one of the ten, “O my lord the Captain, how shall we put out now, when the King hath notified us that to-morrow he will embark in this ship and go round about the sea, being fearful for his daughter Miriam from the Moslem thieves?” But the Rais cried out at them saying, “Woe to you, O accursed; Dare ye gainsay me and bandy words with me?” So saying the old captain bared his blade and with it dealt the sailor who had spoken a thrust in the throat, that the steel came out gleaming from his nape; and quoth another of the sailors, “What hath our comrade done of crime, that thou shouldst cut his throat?” Thereupon the captain clapped hand to sword and smote off the speaker’s head, nor did he leave smiting the rest of the sailors till he had slain them all, one after other, and cast the ten bodies ashore. Then he turned to Nur al-Din and cried out at him with a terrible great cry, that made him tremble, saying, “Go down and pull up the mooring-stake.” Nur al-Din feared lest he should strike him also with the sword; so he sprang up and leapt ashore and pulling up the stake jumped aboard again, swiftlier than the dazzling leven. The captain ceased not to bid him do this and do that and tack and wear hither and thither and look at the stars, and Nur al-Din did all that he bade him, with heart a-quaking for affright; whilst he himself spread the sails, and the ship fared with the twain into the dashing sea, swollen with clashing billows. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
When it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-fourth Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old skipper had made sail he drave the ship, aided by Nur al-Din, into the dashing sea before a favouring gale. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din held on to the tackle immersed in deep thought, and drowned in the sea of solicitude, knowing not what was hidden for him in the future; and whenever he looked at the captain, his heart quaked and he knew not whither the Rais went with him. He abode thus, preoccupied with care and doubt, till it was high day, when he looked at the skipper and saw him take hold of his long beard and pull at it, whereupon it came off in his hand and Nur al-Din, examining it, saw that it was but a false beard glued on. So he straitly considered that same Rais, and behold, it was the Princess Miriam, his mistress and the dearling of his heart, who had contrived to waylay the captain and slay him and skinned off his beard, which she had stuck on to her own face. At this Nur al-Din was transported for joy, and his breast broadened and he marvelled at her prowess and the stoutness of her heart and said to her, “Welcome, O my hope and my desire and the end of mine every wish!” Then love and gladness agitated him and he made sure of winning to his hopes and his expectancy; wherefore he broke out into song and chanted these couplets,
“To all who unknown my love for the May * From whom Fate disjoins
me O say, I pray,
‘Ask my kith and kin of my love that aye * Ensweetens my verses
to lovely lay:
For the loss of the tribesmen my life o’er sway!’
One Thousand and One Nights Page 893