My looks interpret for my tongue and tell of what I feel: And all the love appears that I within my heart conceal. When as we meet and down our cheeks our tears are running fast, I'm dumb, and yet my speaking eyes my thought of thee reveal. She signs to me; and I, I know the things her glances say: I with my fingers sign, and she conceives the mute appeal. Our eyebrows of themselves suffice unto our intercourse: We're mute; but passion none the less speaks in the looks we steal. Then she threw down the sword and said, "How shall I strike off the head of one whom I know not and who has done me no hurt? My religion will not allow of this." Quoth the Afrit, "It is grievous to thee to kill thy lover. Because he hath lain a night with thee, thou endurest this torture and wilt not confess upon him. It is only like that pities like." Then he turned to me and said, "O mortal, dost thou not know this woman?" "Who is she?" answered I. "I never saw her till now." "Then," said he "take this sword and strike off her head and I will believe that thou knowest her not and will let thee go and do thee no hurt." Quoth I, "It is well;" and taking the sword, went up to her briskly and raised my hand. But she signed to me with her eyebrows, as who should say, "What hurt have I done thee? Is it thus thou requitest me?" I understood what she would say and replied in the same manner, "I will ransom thee with my life." And the tongue of the case repeated the following verses: How many a lover with his eyelids speaks And doth his thought unto his mistress tell He flashes signals to her with his eyes, And she at once is ware of what befell. How swift the looks that pass betwixt the twain! How fair, indeed, and how delectable! One with his eyelids writes what he would say: The other with her eyes the writ doth spell.