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So she took the lute and tightening its strings, smote thereon a number of airs, so that she confounded Ishac’s wit and he was like to fly for delight. Then she returned to the first mode and sang thereto the following verses:
Still by your ruined camp a dweller I abide; Ne’er will I change nor e’er shall distance us divide.
Far though you dwell, I’ll ne’er your neighbourhood forget, O friends, whose lovers still for you are stupefied.
Your image midst mine eye sits nor forsakes me aye; Ye are my moons in gloom of night and shadowtide.
Still, as my transports wax, grows restlessness on me And woes have ta’en the place of love-delight denied.
When she had made an end of her song and laid down the lute, Ishac looked fixedly on her, then took her hand and offered to kiss it; but she snatched it from him and said to him, ‘Allah, O my lord, do not that!’ Quoth he, ‘Be silent. By Allah, I had said that there was not in the world the like of me; but now I have found my dinar[1] in the craft but a danic,[2] for thou art, beyond comparison or approximation or reckoning, more excellent of skill than I! This very day will I carry thee up to the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid, and whenas his glance lighteth on thee, thou wilt become a princess of womankind. So, Allah, Allah
