Page:The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night - Volume 5.djvu/141

 from worldly things!  After I had buried him, I made my way to Baghdad and, going to the Caliphs palace, waited till he came forth, when I addressed him in one of the streets and gave him the ruby, which when he saw, he knew and fell down in a fainting-fit. His attendants laid hands on me, but he revived and said to them, Release him and bring him courteously to the palace.  They did his bidding, and when he returned, he sent for me and carrying me into his chamber said to me, How doth the owner of this ruby?  Quoth I, Verily, he is dead; and told him what had passed; whereupon he fell a-weeping and said, The son hath gained; but the sire hath lost.  Then he called out, saying, Ho, such an one!; and behold there came out to him a lady who, when she saw me, would have withdrawn; but he cried to her, Come, and mind him not.  So she entered and saluted, and he threw her the ruby, which when she saw and she knew, she shrieked a great shriek and fell down in a swoon. As soon as she came to herself, she said, O Commander of the Faithful, what hath Allah done with my son?; and he said to me, Do thou tell her his case (as he could not speak for weeping). Accordingly, I repeated the story to her, and she began to shed tears and say in a faint and wailing voice, How I have longed for thy sight, O solace of mine eyes! [FN#166] Would I might have given thee to drink, when thou hadst none to slake thy thirst! Would I might have cheered thee, whenas thou foundest never a cheerer!  And she poured forth tears and recited these couplets,

I weep for one whose lot a lonely death befel; * Without a friend to whom he might complain and moan: And after glory and glad union with his friends, * He woke to desolation, friendless, lorn and lone; What Fortune hides a while she soon to all men shall show; * Death never spared a man; no, not a single one: O absent one, my Lord decreed thee strangerhood, * Far from thy nearest friends and to long exile gone: Though Death forbid my hope of meeting here again, * On Doom-days morrow we shall meet again, my son! [FN#167]

Quoth I, O Commander of the Faithful, was he indeed thy