rainy season. The object of your desire is bursting in agony, but what a pleasure for you to look on! O God! why hast thou made sorrow so beautiful? This girl in distress, a blushing flower driven by the wind, a pleasure boat tossed by billows—what shall a man do with her? - where keep her? The devil whispered in Taqui’s ear, “In the heart.”
“Listen my beautiful, follow me and you shall not have to take the poison,” said Taqui.
At this, we blush to write, Dalani gave Mahammad Taqui a kick.
Mahammad Taqui could not administer the poison, and throwing half-glances at Dalaui slowly turned back.
After he had left, Dalani flung herself on the ground, and writhing in agony wept and exclaimed,
“O my King of Kings, Shah of Shahs, Padishah of Padishahs! what is the meaning of this order to your humble slave? Shall I take poison? If you order, why should I not? Your love is my nectar, your anger is my poison. When you are angry, then the poison has been taken. Is poison more painful than your displeasure? O monarch of monarchs, the light of the world, the sole hope of the destitute, the lord of the world, the vicegerent of God, the very ocean of kindness!—where are you now? When it is your order, I will take the poison with a smiling face, but you cannot stand by and look on, is my only regret.”
A serving-maid, by name Kariman, had been engaged to wait on Dalani. Summoning the maid to her presence, she gave all her jewels into her hands and said, “Go to the doctor quietly and get me a sleeping-draught; mind you, so that I might sleep for ever, never to wake again. Sell these and pay the doctor, the balance you can keep for yourself.”
