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!' Their names when named heal all malady; * Cure and chase from heart every pain I dree: And my longings for love reach so high degree * That my Sprite is maddened each morn I see, And am grown of the crowd to be saw and say. No blame in them will I e'er espy: * No! nor aught of solace sans them descry: Your love hath shot me with pine, and I * Bear in heart a flame that shall never die, But fire my liver with fiery ray. All folk my sickness for marvel score * That in darkest night I wake evermore What ails them to torture this heart forlore * And deem right for loving my blood t' outpour: And yet—how justly unjust are they! Would I wot who 'twas could obtain of you * To wrong a youth who's so fain of you: By my life and by Him who made men of you * And the spy tell aught I complain of you He lies, by Allah, in foulest way! May the Lord my sickness never dispel, * Nor ever my heart of its pains be well, What day I regret that in love I fell * Or laud any land but wherein ye dwell: Wring my heart and ye will or make glad and gay! I have vitals shall ever be true to you * Though racked by the rigours not new to you Ere this wrong and this right I but sue to you: * Do what you will to thrall who to you Shall ne'er grudge his life at your feet to lay."