The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol 9 | Page 6

in free gift to the Wazir and the monocular one carried them to his own stable, the blackamoor thief rejoiced with joy exceeding and made sure of success, saying in himself, "By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, I will certainly steal the twain of them!" Now he had gone out that very night, intending for the stable, to lift them; but, as he walked along, behold, he caught sight of Nur al-Din lying asleep, with the halters in his hands. So he went up to the horses and loosing the halters from their heads, was about to mount one of them and drive the other before him, when suddenly up came the Princess Miriam, carrying on her shoulders the couple of saddle-bags. She mistook the black for Nur al-Din and handed him one pair of bags, which he laid on one of the stallions: after which she gave him the other and he set it on the second steed, without word said to discover that it was not her lover. Then they mounted and rode out of the gate[FN#5] in silence till presently she asked, "O my lord Nur al-Din, what aileth thee to be silent?" Whereupon the black turned to her and cried angrily, "What sayst thou, O damsel?" When she heard the slave's barbarous accents, she knew that the speech was not of Nur al-Din; so raising her eyes she looked at him and saw that he was a black chattel, snub-nosed and wide-mouthed, with nostrils like ewers; whereupon the light in her eyes became night and she asked him, "Who art thou, O Shaykh of the sons of Ham and what among men is thy name?" He answered, "O daughter of the base, my name is Mas'úd, the lifter of horses, when folk slumber and sleep." She made him no reply, but straightway baring her blade, smote him on the nape and the blade came out gleaming from his throat-tendons, whereupon he fell earthwards, weltering in his blood, and Allah hurried his soul to the Fire and abiding-place dire. Then she took the other horse by the bridle and retraced her steps in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found lying, asleep and snoring, in the place where she had appointed him to meet her, hending the halters in hand, yet knowing not his fingers from his feet. So she dismounted and gave him a cuff,[FN#6] whereupon he awoke in affright and said to her, "O m lady, praised be Allah for thy safe coming!" Said she "Rise and back this steed and hold thy tongue!" So he rose and mounted one of the stallions, whilst she bestrode the other, and they went forth the city and rode on awhile in silence. Then said she to him, "Did I not bid thee beware of sleeping? Verily, he prospereth not who sleepeth." He rejoined, "O my lady, I slept not but because of the cooling of my heart by reason of thy promise. But what hath happened, O my lady?" So she told him her adventure with the black, first and last, and he said, "Praised be Allah for safety!" Then they fared on at full speed, committing their affair to the Subtle, the All-wise and conversing as they went, till they came to the place where the black lay prostrate in the dust, as he were an Ifrit, and Miriam said to Nur al-Din, "Dismount; strip him of his clothes and take his arms." He answered, "By Allah, O my lady, I dare not dismount nor approach him." And indeed he marvelled at the blackamoor's stature and praised the Princess for her deed, wondering the while at her valour and stout-heartedness. They fared on lustily and ceased not so doing all that night and halted not till the day broke with its shine and sheen and the sun shone bright upon plain and height when they came to a wide riverino lea wherein the gazelles were frisking gracefully. Its surface was clothed with green and on all sides fruit trees of every kind were seen: its slopes for flowers like serpents' bellies showed, and birds sang on boughs aloud and its rills in manifold runnels flowed. And indeed it was as saith the poet and saith well and accomplisheth the hearer's desire,
"Rosy red Wady hot with summer-glow, * Where twofold tale of common growth was piled. In copse we halted wherein bent to us * Branches, as bendeth nurse o'er weanling-child. And pure cold water quenching thirst we sipped: * To cup-mate sweeter than old wine and mild: From every side it shut out sheen of sun * Screen-like, but wooed the breeze to cool the wild: And pebbles, sweet as maidens deckt and dight * And soft as threaded