The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume II
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The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume II
Fairy tales; Tales -- Arab countries
Then he sighed heavily and wept, till the old woman wept also and
taking the letter, said to him, 'Take heart and be of good cheer,
for it shall go hard but I bring thee to thy desire.' Then she
rose and leaving him on coals of fire, returned to the princess,
whom she found still pale with rage at Taj el Mulouk's first
letter. The nurse gave her his second letter, whereupon her anger
redoubled and she said, 'Did I not say he would conceive hopes of
us?' 'What is this dog,' replied the old woman, 'that he should
conceive hopes of thee?' Quoth the princess, 'Go back to him and
tell him that, if he write to me again, I will have his head cut
off.' 'Write this in a letter,' answered the nurse, 'and I will
take it to him, that his fear may be the greater.' So she took a
scroll and wrote thereon the following verses:
Harkye thou that letst the lessons of the past unheeded lie, Thou
that lookst aloft, yet lackest power to win thy goal on
high,
Thinkest thou to reach Es Suha,[FN#149] O deluded one, although
Even the moon's too far to come at, shining in the middle
sky?
How then dar'st thou hope my favours and aspire to twinned
delight And my spear-straight shape and slender in thine
arms to girdle sigh?
Leave this purpose, lest mine anger fall on thee some day of
wrath, Such as e'en the parting-places shall with white for
terror dye.
Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took
it and returned to Taj el Mulouk. When he saw her, he rose to his
feet and exclaimed, 'May God not bereave me of the blessing of
thy coming!' Quoth she, 'Take the answer to thy letter.' He took
it and reading it, wept sore and said, 'Would some one would slay
me now, for indeed death were easier to me than this my state!'
Then he took pen and inkhorn and paper and wrote the following
verses:
O my hope, have done with rigour; lay disdain and anger by, Visit
one who, drowned in passion, doth for love and longing sigh.
Think not, under thine estrangement, that my life I will endure.
Lo, my soul, for very severance from thy sight, is like to
die.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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