bind up his hand?” Quoth she, “No, by Allah, O my son”; and quoth he, “Even so my heart seeketh none but her and naught slayeth me but love of her. By Allah, I am a dead man, and I find not one to counsel me aright and succour me! Allah upon thee, O my mother, take pity on my strangerhood and the streaming of my tears!”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. When it was the Seven Hundred and Twenty-second Night, She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ardashir, the King’s son said to the old woman, “Allah upon thee, O my mother, take pity on my strangerhood and the streaming of my tears.” Replied she, “By Allah, O my son, thy words rend my heart, but my hand hath no cunning wherewith to help thee.” Quoth he, “I beseech thee of thy favour, carry her a letter and kiss her hands for me.” So she had compassion on him and said, “Write what thou wilt and I will bear it to her.” When he heard this, he was ready to fly for joy and calling for ink-case and paper, wrote these couplets, “O Hayát al-Nufús, be gen’rous, and incline * To one who loving thee for parting’s doomed to pine. I was in all delight, in gladsomest of life, * But now I am distraught with sufferings condign. To wakefulness I cling through longsomeness of night * And with me sorrow chats[FN#268] through each sad eve of mine; Pity a lover sad, a sore afflicted wretch * Whose eyelids ever ulcered are with tearful brine; And when the morning comes at last, the real morn * He finds him drunken and distraught with passion’s wine.”