Some one asked him: “Hast thou no sense of shame? Art thou not sensible to these indignities? It is abject to expose oneself to ridicule, and weak to endure patiently the scoffs of enemies. To overlook the errors of the ignorant is wrong, lest it be said that thou hast neither strength nor courage.” How elegantly did the distracted lover make reply! His words are worthy to be writ in letters of gold: “Alone in my heart there dwelleth affection for my loved one; thus, it contains no room for malice.” STORY OF LUQMAN,[24] THE SAGE I have heard that Luqman was of dark complexion and careless of his appearance. Some one mistook for him a slave, and employed him in digging trenches at Baghdad. Thus he continued for a year, no one suspecting who he was. When the truth was known the master was afeared, and fell at Luqman’s feet, offering excuses. The sage smiled and said: “Of what use are these apologies? For a year my heart has bled through thine oppression. How can I forget that in one hour? But I forgive thee, good man, for thy gain has caused to me no loss. Thou hast built thy house; my wisdom and knowledge have increased. I, too, possess a slave, and frequently set him to arduous labour. Nevermore, when I remember the hardships of my toil, will I afflict him.” He who has not suffered at the hands of the strong grieves not at the frailness of the weak. If thou be sorrowed by those above thee, be not harsh with thine inferiors. CHAPTER V CONCERNING RESIGNATION Happiness comes from the favour of God, not from the might of the powerful. If the heavens bestow not fortune, by no valour can it be obtained. The ant suffers not by reason of its weakness; the tiger eats not by virtue of its strength. Since the hand reaches not to the skies, accept as inevitable the fortune that it brings. If thy life is destined to be long, no snake nor sword will harm thee; when the fated day of death arrives, the antidote will kill thee no less than the poison. STORY OF A SOLDIER OF ISFAHAN In Isfahan I had a friend who was warlike, spirited, and shrewd. His hands and dagger were for ever stained with blood. The hearts of his enemies were consumed by fear of him; even the tigers stood in awe of him. In battle he was like a sparrow among locusts; in combat, sparrows and men were alike to him. Had he made an attack upon Faridun, he would not have given the latter time to draw his sword. Neither in bravery nor magnanimity had he an equal. This warrior formed a liking for my company; but as I was not destined to remain in Isfahan, Fate transferred me from Iraq to Syria, in which holy land my staying was agreeable. After some time the desire for my home attracted me, so I returned to Iraq. One night, the memory of the sepoy passed through my mind; the salt of his friendship opened the wounds of my gratitude, for I had eaten salt from his hand. To meet him, I went to Isfahan, and inquired as to where he lived.