'They blamed me for causing my tears to well * When came my beloved to bid farewell: They ne'er tasted the bitters of parting nor felt * Fire beneath my ribs that flames fierce and fell! None but baffled lover knows aught of Love, * Whose heart is lost where he wont to dwell.' The folk rejoiced in her song with exceeding joy and my gladness redoubled, so that I took the lute from the damsel and preluding after the most melodious fashion, sang these couplets, 'Ask (if needs thou ask) the Compassionate, * And the generous donor of high estate. For asking the noble honours man * And asking the churl entails bane and bate: When abasement is not to be 'scaped by wight * Meet it asking boons of the good and great. Of Grandee to sue ne'er shall vilify man, * But 'tis vile on the vile of mankind to 'wait.' The company rejoiced in me with joy exceeding and the ceased not from pleasure and delight, whilst anon I sang and anon the damsel, till we came to one of the landing-places, where the vessel moored and all on board disembarked and I with them. Now I was drunken with wine and squatted on my hams to make water; but drowsiness overcame me and I slept, and the passengers returned to the ship which ran down stream without any missing me, for that they also were drunken, and continued their voyage until they reached Bassorah. As for me I awoke not till the heat of the sun aroused me, when I rose and looked about me, but saw no one. Now I had given my spending money to the damsel and had naught left: I had also forgotten to ask the Hashimi his name and where his house was at Bassorah and his titles; thus I was confounded and my joy at meeting the damsel had been but a dream; and I abode in perplexity till there came up a great vessel wherein I embarked and she carried me to Bassorah. Now I knew none there much less the Hashimi's house, so I accosted a grocer and taking of him inkcase and paper, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say. When it was the Eight Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night,