The Literature of Arabia | Page 8

me in his company, I shall die

of grief at his absence." Then her mother was touched with pity for her,
and uttered no reproaches, feeling that they would be in vain. "Djaida,"
she said, "conceal your feelings, and restrain yourself from grief. You
have done nothing improper, for your cousin is the man of your choice,
and is of your own blood. Like him, you are fair and attractive; like him,
brave and skilful in horsemanship. Tomorrow morning, when his
mother approaches us, I will reveal to her the whole matter; we will
soon afterwards give you to him in marriage, and finally we will all
return to our own country."
The wife of Zahir waited patiently until the following morning, when
the mother of Khaled arrived. She then presented her daughter, whose
head she uncovered, so as to allow the hair to fall to her shoulders. At
the sight of such charms the mother of Khaled was beyond measure
astonished, and exclaimed: "What! is not this your son Djonder?" "No!
it is Djaida--she the moon of beauty, at last has risen." Then she told
her all that had passed between herself and her husband, and how and
why they had concealed the sex of their child. "Dear kinswoman,"
replied the mother of Khaled, still quite surprised, "among all the
daughters of Arabia who have been celebrated for their beauty I have
never seen one more lovely than this one. What is her name?" "I have
already told you that it is Djaida, and my especial purpose in telling
you the secret is to offer you all these charms, for I ardently desire to
marry my daughter to your son, so that we may all be able to return to
our own land." The mother of Khaled at once assented to this proposal,
and said: "The possession of Djaida will doubtless render my son very
happy." She at once rose and went out to look for Khaled, and
communicated to him all she had seen and learned, not failing to extol
especially the charms of Djaida. "By the faith of an Arab," said she,
"never, my son, have I seen in the desert, or in any city, a girl such as
your cousin; I do not except the most beautiful. Nothing is so perfect as
she is, nothing more lovely and attractive. Make haste, my son, to see
your uncle and ask him for his daughter in marriage. You will be happy
indeed if he grants your prayer: Go, my son, and do not waste time in
winning her."
When Khaled had heard these words, he cast his eyes to the ground,

and remained for some time thoughtful and gloomy. Then he replied:
"My mother, I cannot remain here any longer. I must return home amid
my horsemen and troops. I have no intention of saying anything more
to my cousin; I am convinced that she is a person whose temper and
ideas of life are uncertain; her character and manner of speech are
utterly destitute of stability and propriety. I have always been
accustomed to live amid warriors, on whom I spend my wealth, and
with whom I win a soldier's renown. As for my cousin's love for me, it
is the weakness of a woman, of a young girl." He then donned his
armor, mounted his horse, bade his uncle farewell, and announced his
intention of leaving at once. "What means this haste?" cried Zahir. "I
can remain here no longer," answered Khaled, and, putting his horse to
a gallop, he flung himself into the depths of the wilderness. His mother,
after relating to Djaida the conversation she held with her son, mounted
a camel and made her way towards her own country.
The soul of Djaida felt keenly this indignity. She brooded over
it--sleepless and without appetite. Some days afterwards, as her father
was preparing with his horsemen to make a foray against his foes, his
glance fell on Djaida, and seeing how altered she was in face, and
dejected in spirit, he refrained from saying anything, thinking and
hoping that she would surely become herself again after a short time.
Scarcely was Zahir out of sight of his tents, when Djaida, who felt
herself like to die, and whose frame of mind was quite unsupportable,
said to her mother: "Mother, I feel that I am dying, and that this
miserable Khaled is still in the vigor of life. I should like, if God gives
me the power, to make him taste the fury of death, the bitterness of its
pang and torture." So saying, she rose like a lioness, put on her armor,
and mounted her horse, telling her mother she was going on a hunting
expedition. Swiftly, and without stopping, she traversed rocks and
mountains, her