Story of Attaf the generous, and what happened to him with the Wazir Ja'afar who fell in love with a young lady not knowing her to be the cousin-wife of Attaf who, in his generosity divorced her and married her to him. The Naïb of Damascus being jealous of Attaf's intimacy with Ja'afar imprisons him for treason and pillages his property. Escape of Attaf from prison and his flight to Baghdad where he arrives in a beggarly condition, and being accused of assassination is condemned to death, but being released he goes to Ja'afar who recognises him and is rewarded by him and the Caliph. His wife is restored to him and after a while they are sent home to Damascus of which he is appointed Wali in place of the Naïb who is condemned to death, but is afterwards exiled. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate, to whom we cry for help. They say God is omniscient, knowing the past and the future, and we learn from the histories of the peoples that there was in ancient times and bygone seasons (and God knows best!) a Caliph of the Caliphs or the orthodox and he was Harun er-Rashid who one night became very restless and from the drowsiness that came upon him he sat down upon the bed and dressed himself in sleeping-clothes; then it was that he called to his service Mesrúr the sword-bearer of grace who came immediately into his presence and said to him, O Mesrur, the night is very oppressive and I wish thee to dispel my uneasiness. Then Mesrur said to him, O Commander of the Faithful, arise now and go to the terrace-roof of the palace and look upon the canopy of heaven and upon the twinkling stars and the brightness of the moon, while listening to the music of the rippling streams and the creaking norias as they are spoken of by the poet who said:-- A Noria that discharges by the spouts of her tears resembles the actions of a distracted lover: She is the lover of her branches (sweeps or levers) by the magic in her heart until she laughs: She complains and the tears run from her eyes, she rises in the morning to find herself weeping and complaining. Then he said, O Commander of the Faithful, the streams also are thus mentioned by one of them:-- My favorite is a damsel dispensing drink, and my recreation is a running stream; A damsel whose eyes are a garden of Paradise, and a garden whose springs make a running brook.