She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Nazarenes who wore merchants' weed, when brought to a private place by Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan, laid bare to both of them the story of the devotee and wept till they made the two Kings weep and repeated to them all which had been taught by the old witch Zat al-Dawahi. Thereupon Sharrkan's heart yearned to the devotee and he was moved to ruth for him and was fired with zeal for the service of Almighty Allah. So quoth he to them, "Did ye rescue this holy man or is he still in the hermitage?" Quoth they, "We delivered him and slew the hermit, fearing for our lives; after which we made haste to fly for dread of death; but a trusty man told us that in this hermitage are quintals of gold and silver and stones of price." Then they fetched the chest and brought out the accursed old woman, as she were a cassia pod[FN#421] for excess of blackness and leanness, and she was laden with the same fetters and shackles. When Zau al-Makan and the bystanders saw her, they took her for a man of the best of Allah's devotees and surpassing in pious qualities, more especially because of the shining of her forehead for the ointment wherewith she had anointed her face. So Zau al-Makan and Sharrkan wept sore; then they rose up in honour and kissed her hands and feet, sobbing aloud: but she signed to them; and said, "Cease this weeping and hear my words. Hereat they dried their tears in obedience to her bidding, and she said, "Know ye both that I was content to accept what my Lord did unto me, for I kenned that the affliction which befel me was a trial from Him (be He exalted and extolled!); and whoso hath not patience under calamity and tribulation, for him there is no coming to the delights of Paradise. I had indeed supplicated Him that I might return to my native land, not as a compensation for the sufferings decreed to me, but that I might die under the horse hoofs of warriors fighting for the Faith who, being slain in fray, live again without suffering death."[FN#422] Then she repeated the following couplets, "Our Fort is Tor,[FN#423] and flames the fire of fight: * Moses art thou and this is time for aid: Cast down thy rod, 'twill swallow all they wrought, * Nor dread for men their ropes be vipers made.[FN#424] For Chapters read on fight day lines of foes, * And on their necks 'grave versets[FN#425] wi' thy blade!"