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Awake, O Mesrour, from love’s stupor; for lo, I fear lest our love bring thee travail and woe.
Sure proverbs on us East and West shall be made And the folk our report for a wonder shall know.
Leave loving my like, or for sure thou’lt have blame.—Why cleav’st thou to me of all women? I trow,
One well-born shouldst thou love.—Thou’lt a byword become And find not a pitying friend high or low
I’m a Pharisee’s child and the folk fear my wrath: Would the term of my life were accomplished, heigho!
And Mesrour answered her with these verses.
Leave me to my affliction; to love thee I’m content; And blame me not, for censure my passion doth augment.
Over my heart ye lord it in tyrant-wise, whilst I Fare westward neither eastward for very languishment.
Forbidden ’tis to slay me of passion’s law; they say, ‘The slain of love’s a victim, oppressed and innocent.’
Were there a judge in passion, to him I’d make my moan, Mayhap he’d do me justice in his arbitrament.
They ceased not from chiding and discourse till the morning beamed, when Zein el Mewasif said to him, ‘O Mesrour, it is time for thee to depart, lest one of the folk see thee and foul befall us.’ So he arose and going forth, fared on, accompanied by Huboub, till they came to his lodging, where he talked with her and said to her, ‘All thou seekest of me thou shalt presently have, so but thou wilt bring me to her enjoyment.’ Quoth Huboub, ‘Comfort thy heart;’ whereupon he rose and gave her a hundred dinars, saying, ‘O Huboub, I have by me a dress worth a hundred dinars.’ ‘O Mesrour,’ answered she, ‘make haste with the dresses and what not else thou didst promise her, ere she change her mind, for we may not avail to take her save with craft and beguilement, and she loveth the recitation of verses.’ Quoth he, ‘I hear and obey,’ and bringing her the musk and ambergris and
