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Then said Jubeir, “Put thy hand to our food and ease our heart by eating of our victual.” “By Allah,” answered I, “I will not eat a mouthful, till thou grant me my desire.” “What is thy desire?” asked he. So I brought out the letter and gave it to him; but, when he had read it, he tore it into pieces and throwing it on the floor, said to me, “O Ibn Mensour, I will grant thee whatever thou askest, save this that concerns the writer of this letter, for I have no answer to make to her.” At this, I rose in anger; but he caught hold of my skirts, saying, “O Ibn Mensour, I will tell thee what she said to thee, for all I was not present with you.” “And what did she say to me?” asked I. “Did she not say to thee,” rejoined he, ‘If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred dinars; and if not, a hundred for thy pains?’” “Yes,” answered I; and he said, “Abide with me this day and eat and drink and make merry, and thou shalt have five hundred dinars.”
So I sat with him and ate and drank and made merry and entertained him with converse; after which I said to him, “O my master, is there no music in thy house?” “Indeed,” answered he, “we have drunk this long while without music.” Then he called out, saying, “Ho, Shejeret ed Durr!” Whereupon a slave-girl answered him from her chamber and came in to us, with a lute of Indian make, wrapped in a silken bag. She sat down and laying the lute in her lap, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then, returning to the first, sang the following verses to a lively measure:
Who hath not tasted the sweet and the bitter of passion, I trow, The presence of her whom he loves from her absence he hardly shall know.
So he, from the pathway of love who hath wandered and fallen astray, The smooth knoweth not from the rough of the roadway, wherein he doth go.
I ceased not the votaries of love and of passion to cross and gainsay, Till I too must taste of its sweet and its bitter, its gladness and woe.
