The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol 8, Sir Richard Francis Burton [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

His eyne and twinn�d moles and tears of me * Are night that nighteth to the nightliest night.

His eyebrows and his features and my frame[FN#470] * Crescents on crescents are as crescents slight: His pupils pass the wine-cup to his friends * Which, albe sweet, tastes bitter to my sprite;

And to my thirsty throat pure drink he dealt * From smiling lips what day we were unite:

Then is my blood to him, my death to him * His right and rightful and most righteous right.”

The girl gazed at Nur al-Din and said, “O my lord, Allah upon thee, am I not beautiful?”; and he replied, “O Princess of fair ones, is there in the world a comelier than thou?” She rejoined, “Then why seest thou all the other merchants bid high for me and art silent nor sayest a word neither addest one dinar to my price? ‘Twould seem I please thee not, O my lord!” Quoth he, “O

my lady, were I in my own land, I had bought thee with all that my hand possesseth of monies;” and quoth she, “O my lord, I said not, ‘Buy me against thy will,’ yet, didst thou but add somewhat to my price, it would hearten my heart, though thou buy me not, so the merchants may say, ‘Were not this girl handsome, yonder merchant of Cairo had not bidden for her, for the Cairenes are connoisseurs in slavegirls.’” These words abashed Nur al-Din and he blushed and said to the broker, “How high are the biddings for her?” He replied, “Her price hath reached nine hundred and sixty dinars,[FN#471] besides brokerage, as for the Sultan’s dues, they fall on the seller.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “Let me have her for a thousand dinars, brokerage and price.” And the damsel hastening to the fore and leaving the broker, said “I sell myself to this handsome young man for a thousand dinars.” But Nur al-Din held his peace. Quoth one, “We sell to him;” and another, “He deserveth her;” and a third, “Accursed, son of accursed, is he who biddeth and doth not buy!”; and a fourth, “By Allah, they befit each other!” Then, before Nur al-Din could think, the broker fetched Kazis and witnesses, who wrote out a contract of sale and purchase; and the broker handed the paper to Nur al-Din, saying, “Take thy slavegirl and Allah bless thee in her for she beseemeth none but thee and none but thou beseemeth her.” And he recited these two couplets,

“Boom Fortune sought him in humblest way[FN#472] * And came to him draggle-tailed, all a-stir:

And none is fittest for him but she * And none is fittest but he for her.”

Hereat Nur al-Din was abashed before the merchants; so he arose without stay or delay and weighed out the thousand dinars which he had left as a deposit with his father’s friend the druggist, and taking the girl, carried her to the house wherein the Shaykh had lodged him. When she entered and saw nothing but ragged patched carpets and worn out rugs, she said to him, “O my lord, have I no value to thee and am I not worthy that thou shouldst bear me to thine own house and home wherein are thy goods, that thou bringest me into thy servant’s lodging? Why dost thou not carry me to thy father’s dwelling?” He replied, “By Allah, O

Princess of fair ones, this is my house wherein I dwell; but it belongeth to an old man, a druggist of this city, who hath set it apart for me and lodged me therein. I told thee that I was a stranger and that I am of the sons of Cairo city.” She rejoined, “O my lord, the least of houses sufficeth till thy return to thy native place; but, Allah upon thee, O my lord, go now and fetch us somewhat of roast meat and wine and dried fruit and dessert.”

Quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O Princess of fair ones, I had no money with me but the thousand dinars I paid down to thy price nor possess I any other good. The few dirhams I owned were spent by me yesterday.” Quoth she, “Hast thou no friend in the town, of whom thou mayst borrow fifty dirhams and bring them to me, that I may tell thee what thou shalt do therewith?” And he said, “I have no intimate but the druggist.” Then he betook himself forthright to the druggist and said to him, “Peace be with thee, O uncle!”

He returned his salam and said to him, “O my son, what hast thou bought for a thousand dinars this day?” Nur al-Din replied, “I have bought a slavegirl;” and the oldster rejoined, “O my son, art thou mad that thou givest a thousand dinars for one slavegirl? Would I knew what kind of slavegirl she is?” Said Nur al-Din, “She is a damsel of the children of the Franks;”—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-fourth Night, She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din said to the ancient druggist, “The damsel is of the children of the Franks;” and the Shaykh said, “O my son, the best of the girls of the Franks are to be had in this our town for an hundred dinars, and by Allah, O my son, they have cheated thee in the matter of this damsel! However, an thou have taken a fancy to her, lie with her this night and do thy will of her and tomorrow morning go down with her to the market and sell her, though thou lose by her two hundred dinars, and reckon that thou hast lost them by shipwreck or hast been robbed of them on the road.” Nur al-Din replied, “Right is thy rede, O uncle, but thou knowest that I had but the thousand dinars wherewith I purchased the damsel, and now I have not a single dirham left to spend; so I desire of thy favour and bounty that thou lend me fifty dirhams, to provide me withal, till tomorrow, when I will sell her and repay thee out of her price.” Said the old man, “Willingly, O my son,” and counted out to him the fifty dirhams. Then he said to him, “O my son, thou art but young in years and the damsel is fair, so belike thy heart will be taken with her and it will be grievous to thee to vend her. Now thou hast nothing to live on and these fifty dirhams will readily be spent and thou wilt come to me and I shall lend thee once and twice and thrice, and so on up to ten times; but, an thou come to me after this, I will not return thy salam[FN#473] and our friendship with thy father will end ill.” Nur al-Din took the fifty dirhams and returned with them to the damsel, who said to him, “O my lord, wend thee at once to the market and fetch me twenty dirhams’ worth of stained silk of five colours and with the other thirty buy meat and bread and fruit and wine and flowers.” So he went to the market and purchasing for her all she sought, brought it to her, whereupon she rose and tucking up her sleeves, cooked food after the most skilful fashion, and set it before him. He ate and she ate with him, till they had enough, after which she set on the wine, and she drank and he drank, and she ceased not to ply him with drink and entertain him with discourse, till he became drunken and fell asleep. Thereupon she arose without stay or delay and taking out of her bundle a budget of T�if� leather,[FN#474] opened it and drew forth a pair of knitting needles, wherewith she fell to work and stinted not till she had made a beautiful zone, which she folded up in a wrapper after cleaning it and ironing it, and laid it under her pillow. Then she doffed her dress till she was mother-naked and lying down beside Nur al-Din shampoo’d him till he awoke from his heavy sleep. He found by his side a maiden like virgin silver, softer than silk and delicater than a tail of fatted sheep, than standard more conspicuous and goodlier than the red camel,[FN#475] in height five feet tall with breasts firm and full, brows like bended bows, eyes like gazelles’ eyes and cheeks like blood-red anemones, a slender waist with dimples laced and a navel holding an ounce of the unguent benzoin, thighs like bolsters stuffed with ostrich-down, and between them what the tongue fails to set forth and at mention whereof the tears jet forth. Brief it was as it were she to whom the poet alluded in these two couplets,

“From her hair is Night, from her forehead Noon * From her side-face Rose; from her lip wine boon: From her Union Heaven, her Severance Hell: * Pearls from her teeth; from her front full Moon.”

And how excellent is the saying of another bard,[FN#476]

“A Moon she rises, Willow-wand she waves * Breathes ambergris and gazeth a gazelle.

Meseems that sorrow wooes my heart and wins * And when she wends makes haste therein to dwell.

Her face is fairer than the Stars of Wealth[FN#477] * And sheeny brows the crescent Moon excel.”

And quoth a third also,

“They shine fullest Moons, unveil Crescent-bright; *

Sway tenderest Branches and turn wild kine; ‘Mid which is a Dark-eyed for love of whose charms *

The Sailors[FN#478] would joy to be ground low-li’en.”

So Nur al-Din turned to her at once and clasping her to his bosom, sucked first her upper lip and then her under lip and slid his tongue between the twain into her mouth. Then he rose to her and found her a pearl unthridden and a filly none but he had ridden. So he abated her maidenhead and had of her amorous delight and there was knitted between them a love-bond which might never know breach nor severance.[FN#479] He rained upon her cheeks kisses like the falling of pebbles into water, and struck with stroke upon stroke, like the thrusting of spears in battle brunt; for that Nur al-Din still yearned after clipping of necks and sucking of lips and letting down of tress and pressing of waist and biting of cheek and cavalcading on breast with Cairene buckings and Yamani wrigglings and Abyssinian sobbings and Hind�

pamoisons and Nubian lasciviousness and R�f� leg-liftings[FN#480]

and Damiettan moanings and Sa’�d�[FN#481] hotness and Alexandrian languishment[FN#482] and this damsel united in herself all these virtues, together with excess of beauty and loveliness, and indeed she was even as saith of her the poet, “This is she I will never forget till I die * Nor draw near but to those who to her draw nigh.

A being for semblance like Moon at full * Praise her Maker, her Modeller glorify!

Tho’ be sore my sin seeking love-liesse * On esperance-day ne’er repent can I;

A couplet reciting which none can know * Save the youth who in couplets and rhymes shall cry,

‘None weeteth love but who bears its load * Nor passion, save pleasures and pains he aby.’”

So Nur al-Din lay with the damsel through the night in solace and delight,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-fifth Night, She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din lay with that damsel through the night in solace and delight, the twain garbed in the closely buttoned garments of embrace, safe