For a year he remained devoutly employed in the mosque. One night, through weakness, his heart began to palpitate, and at daybreak his last breath flickered like a morning lamp. Thus did he exclaim with joy: “And whoever knocked at the door of the Bounteous One, it opened.” He who seeks God should be patient and enduring; I have not heard of an alchemist being sad. Much gold he reduces to ashes so that he may one day turn copper into gold. Gold is good with which to buy—and what couldst thou wish to buy better than the face of thy Friend?[20] STORY OF ONE WHO WAS ASSIDUOUS IN PRAYER An old man spent the night in worship and the morning in prayer. A guardian angel whispered to him: “Go, take thy way, for thy prayers are not acceptable at this door.” The next night again he passed the night in devotion; and a disciple, being informed of his circumstances, said: “When thou seest that the door is shut, why dost thou thus exert thyself?” Weeping, he replied: “O my son! Dost thou suppose that although He has torn my reins I shall keep my hands from off his saddle-straps? When a supplicant is repelled at one door, what is his fear if he know of another?” While thus he spoke, with his head upon the ground, the angel uttered this message in his ear: “Although there is no merit in him, his prayers are accepted, for except Me he has no refuge.” STORY OF SULTAN MAHMŪD AND HIS LOVE FOR AYĀZ Some one found fault with the king of Ghazni, saying: “Ayāz, his favourite slave, possesses no beauty. It is strange that a nightingale should love a rose that has neither colour nor perfume.” This was told to Mahmūd, who said: “My love, O sir, is for his virtues, not for his form and stature.” I have heard that in a narrow pass a camel fell and a chest of pearls was broken. The king gave the signal for plunder, and urged on his horse with speed. The horsemen did likewise, and, leaving the king behind, gathered up the pearls. Not one of them remained near the king but Ayāz. “O thou of curly locks!” said Mahmūd, “what hast thou gained of the plunder?” “Nothing,” he replied. “I walked in haste behind thee: I do not occupy myself with riches away from thy service.” If an honourable place in the court be thine, be not neglectful of the king on account of gain elsewhere. STORY OF A VILLAGE CHIEF A village chief passed with his son through the centre of the imperial army. In the presence of such pomp and splendour the man displayed humility and fled, through fear, into a corner. “After all,” observed his son, “thou art a village chief, and in chieftaincy greater than the nobles. Why dost thou tremble like a willow tree?” “True,” replied his father. “I am a chief and a ruler, but my honour lies as far as my village.” Thus are the saints overwhelmed with fear when they stand in the court of their King. STORY OF A FIRE-FLY Perhaps thou mayest have seen the fire-fly shine like a lamp in the garden at night.