"Wither thy right, O smith, which made her bear * Those iron chains her hands and feet to wear! Thou hast ensoiled a lady soft and bright, * Marvel of marvels, fairest of the fair: Hadst thou been just, those anklets ne'er had been * Of iron: nay of purest gold they were: By Allah! did the Kázis' Kázi sight * Her charms, he'd seat her in the highest chair." Now it chanced that the Kazi of Kazis passed by the smith's house and heard him improvise these lines; so he sent for him and as soon as he saw him said to him, "O blacksmith, who is she on whom thou callest so instantly and eloquently and with whose love thy heart is full filled?" The smith sprang to his feet and kissing the Judge's hand, answered, "Allah prolong the days of our lord the Kazi and ample his life!" Then he described to him Zayn al-Mawasif's beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and perfection, and symmetry and grace and how she was lovely faced and had a slender waist and heavily based; and acquainted him with the sorry plight wherein she was for abasement and durance vile and lack of victual. When the Kazi heard this, he said, "O blacksmith, send her to us and show her that we may do her justice, for thou art become accountable for the damsel and unless thou guide her to us, Allah will punish thee at the Day of Doom." "I hear and obey," replied the smith and betook himself without stay and delay to Zayn al-Mawasif's lodging, but found the door barred and heard a voice of plaintive tone that came from heart forlorn and lone; and it was Zayn al-Mawasif reciting these couplets, "I and my love in union were unite; * And filled my friend to me cups clearly bright Between us reigned high mirth and jollity, * Nor Eve nor Morn brought 'noyance or affright Indeed we spent most joyous time, with cup * And lute and dulcimer to add delight, Till Time estranged our fair companionship; * My lover went and blessing turned to blight. Ah would the Severance-raven's croak were stilled * And Union-dawn of Love show blessčd light!" When the blacksmith heard this, he wept like the weeping of the clouds. Then he knocked at the door and the women said, "Who is at the door?" Answered he, "'Tis I, the blacksmith," and told them what the Kazi had said and how he would have them appear before him and make their complaint to him, that he might do them justice on their adversary.—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say, When it was the Eight Hundred and Fifty-eighth Night,