Arabian Nights

And weep to see the waist they bear so slight.

When the Porter looked upon her his wits were waylaid, and his senses were stormed so that his crate went nigh to fall from his head, and he said to himself, ‘Never have I in my life seen a day more blessed than this day!’ Then quoth the lady-portress to the lady-cateress, ‘Come in from the gate and relieve this poor man of his load.’ So the provisioner went in followed by the Portress and the Porter and went on till they reached a spacious ground-floor hall, built with admirable skill and beautified with all manner of colours and carvings; with upper balconies and groined arches and galleries and cupboards and recesses whose curtains hung before them. In the midst stood a great basin of water surrounding a fine fountain, and at the upper end of the raised dais was a couch of juniper-wood set with gems and pearls, with a canopy like mosquito-curtains of red satin-silk looped up with pearls as big as filberts and bigger. Thereupon sat a lady bright of blee, with brow beaming brilliancy, the dream of philosophy, whose eyes were fraught with Babel’s gramarye and her eyebrows were arched as for archery; her breath breathed ambergris and perfumery and her lips were sugar to taste and carnelian to see.

Her stature was straight as the letter I, and her face shamed the noon-sun’s radiancy; and she was even as a galaxy, or a dome with golden marquetry or a bride displayed in choicest finery or a noble maid of Araby. Right well of her sang the bard when he said:

Her smiles twin rows of pearls display

Chamomile-buds or rimey spray

Her tresses stray as night let down

And shames her light the dawn o’ day.

The third lady rising from the couch stepped forward with graceful swaying gait till she reached the middle of the saloon, when she said to her sisters, ‘Why stand ye here? take it down from this poor man’s head!’ Then the Cateress went and stood before him, and the Portress behind him while the third helped them, and they lifted the load from the Porter’s head; and, emptying it of all that was therein, set everything in its place. Lastly they gave him two gold pieces, saying, ‘Wend thy ways, O Porter.’

But he went not, for he stood looking at the ladies and admiring what uncommon beauty was theirs, and their pleasant manners and kindly dispositions (never had he seen goodlier); and he gazed wistfully at that good store of wines and sweet-scented flowers and fruits and other matters. Also he marvelled with exceeding marvel, especially to see no man in the place and delayed his going; whereupon quoth the eldest lady, ‘What aileth thee that goest not; haply thy wage be too little?’ And, turning to her sister the Cateress, she said, ‘Give him another dinar!’

But the Porter answered, ‘By Allah, my lady, it is not for the wage; my hire is never more than two dirhams; but in very sooth my heart and my soul are taken up with you and your condition. I wonder to see you single with ne’er a man about you and not a soul to bear you company; and well you wot that the minaret toppleth o’er unless it stand upon four, and you want this same fourth; and women’s pleasure without man is short of measure, even as the poet said:

‘Seest not we want for joy four things all told

The harp and lute, the flute and flageolet;

And be they companied with scents four-fold

Rose, myrtle, anemone and violet;

Nor please all eight an four thou wouldst withold

Good wine and youth and gold and pretty pet.

‘You be three and want a fourth who shall be a person of good sense and prudence; smart-witted, and one apt to keep careful counsel.’ His words pleased and amused them much; and they laughed at him and said, ‘And who is to assure us of that? We are maidens and we fear to entrust our secret where it may not be kept for we have read in a certain chronicle the lines of one Ibn al-Sumam:

‘Hold fast thy secret and to none unfold

Lost is a secret when that secret’s told:

An fail thy breast the secret to conceal

How canst thou hope another’s breast shall hold?

‘And Abu Nowas said well on the same subject:

‘Who trusteth secret to another’s hand

Upon his brow deserveth burn of brand!’

When the maidens heard his verse and its poetical application addressed to them they said, ‘Thou knowest that we have laid out all our moneys on this place. Now say, hast thou aught to offer us in return for entertainment? For surely we will not suffer thee to sit in our company and be our cup-companion, and gaze upon our faces so fair and so rare without paying a round sum. Wottest thou not the saying:

‘Sans hope of gain

Love’s not worth a grain?’

Whereto the lady-Portress added, ‘If thou bring anything thou art a something; if no thing, be off with thee thou art a nothing;’ but the Procuratrix interposed, saying, ‘Nay, O my sisters, leave teasing him, for by Allah he hath not failed us this day, and had he been other he never had kept patience with me, so whatever be his shot and scot I will take it upon myself.’ The Porter, overjoyed, kissed the ground before her and thanked her saying, ‘By Allah, these moneys are the first fruits this day hath given me.’ Hearing this they said, ‘Sit thee down and welcome to thee,’ and the eldest lady added, ‘By Allah, we may not suffer thee to join us save on one condition, and this it is, that no questions be asked as to what concerneth thee not, and frowardness shall be soundly flogged.’ Answered the Porter, ‘I agree to this, O my lady, on my head and my eyes be it! Look ye, I am dumb, I have no tongue.’ Then arose the Provisioneress and tightening her girdle set the table by the fountain and put the flowers and sweet herbs in their jars and strained the wine and ranged the flasks in row and made ready every requisite.

Then she sat down, she and her sisters, placing amidst them the Porter who kept deeming himself in a dream; and she took up the wine flagon, and poured out the first cup and drank it off, and likewise a second and a third. After this she filled a fourth cup which she handed to one of her sisters; and, lastly, she crowned a goblet and passed it to the Porter, saying:

‘Drink the dear draught, drink free and fain

What healeth every grief and pain.’

He took the cup in his hand and, louting low, returned his best thanks and improvised:

‘Drain not the bowl save with a trusty friend

A man of worth whose good old blood all know:

For wine, like wind, sucks sweetness from the sweet

And stinks when over stench it haply blow.’

Adding:

‘Drain not the bowl, save from dear hand like thine

The cup recalls thy gifts; thou, gifts of wine.’

After repeating this couplet he kissed their hands and drank and was drunk and sat swaying from side to side and pursued:

‘All drinks wherein is blood the Law unclean

Doth hold save one, the bloodshed of the vine:

Fill! fill! take all my wealth bequeathed or won

Thou fawn! a willing ransom for those eyne.’

Then the Cateress crowned a cup and gave it to the Portress who took it from her hand and thanked her and drank. Thereupon she poured again and passed to the eldest lady who sat on the couch, and filled yet another and handed it to the Porter. He kissed the ground before them; and, after drinking and thanking them, he again began to recite:

‘Here! Here! by Allah, here!

Cups of the sweet the dear!

Fill me a brimming bowl

The Fount o’ Life I speer.’

Then the Porter stood up before the mistress of the house and said, ‘O lady, I am thy slave, thy Mameluke, thy white thrall, thy very bondsman;’ and he began reciting: