Thousand & One Nights: 142nd Night: The Lame Young Man & The Baghdad Barber -4

After the recitation of verses, she looked at me and smiled. Her verses reflected my passion and distress. She said to me, "Son, tell me your story." I told her my secret. 

She said, "That young lady is the daughter of the Judge of Baghdad. She is kept in strict seclusion. You saw her in her private room upstairs where she occupies by herself alone, and her  parents live downstairs. I often visit her, and I will help you, and you will not get to her, but through me only. Gird your loins." When I heard I was relaxed, and I began to eat and drink, to the satisfaction of my family.

She came to me, the following morning, crestfallen, and said, "Son, don't ask how I fared with the young lady when I mentioned you to her. The last thing she said about you was, 'Wretched woman, if you don't stop this talk, I will punish you as you deserve, and if you ever mention him again, I will tell my father.' But by God, son, I must try her again, even if I suffer for it." I was very much dejected by her words. The old woman visited me every day, while my illness dragged on until all physicians and sages and my entire family began to despair of my recovery. 

One day the old woman came and sat at my head, and whispered in my ears, "You must give a reward for the good news." I sat up and said, "The reward is yours."
She said, "My son, I went to her yesterday, and she welcomed me and, seeing that I was broken hearted and tearful, asked, 'O aunt what is the matter with you, and why are you unhappy?' I replied tearfully, 'My lady, I have just come from a sick man, who has been lying, now conscious, now unconscious. His family has given up him, and she will surely perish because of you.' I found that she began to feel pity, and asked, 'What is he to you?' I replied, 'He is my son, he saw you sometime ago at your window, watering your flowers, and when he looked at your face, and your lovely hands, his heart was captivated, and he fell madly in love with you. Then she recited the following verses:

Your face, a lovely treasure, don't 
Kill him with your cruel disdain
His heart is intoxicated with love 
He is racked and torn with pain.
With your supple curves and grace
Your pearly mouth, piercing looks,
Your slender melting waist
Give him your love, let him drink it.
Only your love can redeem him!

But, my lady, when he sent me to you last time I fared badly at your hands."

But morning overtook, and Shahrazad lapsed into silence.







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