'On hearing these words I was thrown into a dreadful state of alarm. There is nothing that moves a man more painfully than the near prospect of death. "Tell me the truth," I cried, "if indeed things are about to go with me contrary to my wishes, that I may at least perform the last rites." Yúsuf swore again and again, but I did not heed his oaths. I felt my strength gone. I rose and went to a corner of the garden. I meditated with myself, and said, Should a man live a hundred, nay, a thousand, years, yet at last he[1] must inevitably make up his mind to die.
Whether thou live a hundred years or a single day, thou must
Infallibly quit this palace which delights the heart.'I resigned myself, therefore, to die. There was a stream in the garden, and there I made my ablutions and recited a prayer of two bowings. Then surrendering myself to meditation I was about to ask God for his compassion, when sleep closed my eyes. I saw (in my dream) Khwája Ya'kúb, son of Khwája Yahyá and grandson of his eminence the Khwája 'Obaid-Allah [a famous saint of Samarkand], with a numerous escort mounted on dappled grey horses, come before me and say, "Do not be anxious. The Khwája has sent me to tell you that he will support you, and seat you on the throne of sovereignty; whenever a difficulty occurs to you, remember to beg his help, and he will at once respond to your appeal, and victory and triumph shall straightway lean to your side." I awoke, with easy heart, at the very moment when Yúsuf the constable and his companions were plotting some trick to seize and throttle me. Hearing them discussing it, I said to them, "All you say is very well, but I shall be curious to see which of you dares approach me."
- ↑ Here the Persian texts break off suddenly: the rest of the adventure is from the Turki original.
