LAYLA AND MAJNUN
from which he could see the lights of Laylá's palace. His longing ate into his heart, and it was harder to bear than his former distraction, by which he had earned his name of Majnún ('mad with love'). But as, in the first instance, his reason had borne the strain, so now it bore the stress of all this weary waiting at the gates of Paradise.
Zeyd bore tidings of Laylá to Majnún, but from Majnún to Laylá no message passed until, on a day when the prescribed term had passed, Zeyd took word to her that Majnún would come to her at the palace at noon, or, according to her choice, wait for her at the lovers’ fountain at two hours after sunset.
Zeyd brought back the delayed message: 'Noon has passed, but noon will come again—after this eventide.' Which was not unlike the answer Majnún had expected.
The saddest part of the history of these ill-destined lovers is yet to be told. Two hours after sunset Majnún kept the tryst. Two hours after sunset Laylá, her eyes smouldering with a pent-up fire, cloaked herself as of old and went out by the side door of the palace. There was no moon, but the stars shed a soft light upon the gardens. She passed among the trees; her heart beat fast and her breath came quick. The whole of her life seemed wrapped up in her two feet, which ran a hot race with each other. She reached the edge of the forest and paused, clasping her hands over her bosom. She must regain her breath to show Majnún how little she had hastened. Then, before she had regained it, she ran on, losing it the more. There was the fountain—the fountain where lovers had always met — she saw it sparkling in the starlight through the trees. Now she stood on the edge of the open space, the folds of her cloak parted, her masses of raven hair fallen loose, her breast heaving.
A figure darted from the fountain's side. She faltered forward, swaying. A moaning cry escaped her as Majnún caught her in a wild embrace.
Who knows if it was but a moment or a thousand years? Love has no dial. But that time-moment two hours after sunset was their swift undoing. At the touch of her lips upon his, Majnún's reason
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