University of Virginia Library

A certain pious man whilom heard tell
That there in such and such a town did dwell
A smith who in the middle furnace-flare
Could to the elbow thrust his forearm bare
And forth thereof the redhot iron bring
And handle without hurt. So, journeying,
Unto the place he came and found the man;
And watching him, as he to work began,
He saw him do as it of him was said;
For that, unburned, the iron, being red,
He gripped and handled very coals of fire.
Whereat there overcame him great desire
To know the reason of the wondrous thing;
So, waiting till the smith left hammering
And stood, his day's work done, at easance, he
Accosted him and gave him courteously
To understand that he his guest that night
Would be: whereto, “With all my heart,” the wight
Said and it being now the even-gloam,
The stranger took and carried with him home,
Whereas they supped together and to sleep
Lay down. And all night long the guest did keep
Strait watch upon his host, but saw no sign,
Passing the common, of devout design
Or piety especial; and quoth he
Unto himself, “Belike he doth from me
Of his humility himself conceal,
Unto a stranger shame his pious zeal
Thinking to show and fain himself to hide
From all save God.” Wherefore he did abide
A second night with him and eke a third,
But nothing more than common saw or heard;
Nay, that he did no more than keep, he saw,
The ordinary letter of the Law
And rose but little in the night to pray,
As of their wont who follow in God's way,
Seeking to gain some special grace Divine.
Then, at the last, to him, “O brother mine,
Of the rare gift and great which hath conferred
Of God upon thee been,” quoth he, “I've heard
And with mine eyes the truth thereof have seen,
How thou of the Most High hast favoured been,
In that He fire to handle without hurt
Hath granted thee, and yet of such desert,
As in His sight such singular great grace
Hath gotten thee, can find in thee no trace.
Moreover, I have noted thee with care
And marked thine assiduity in prayer
And exercise devout, but find in thee
No fervour of especial piety,
Such as distinguisheth, among the rest
Of mortals, those in whom made manifest
Are such miraculous gifts as this of thine.
Whence, then, I prithee, cometh this, in fine,
To thee?” And “O my guest,” he made reply,
“Hearken and I will tell thee. Know that I
Enamoured of a damsel passing fair
Was aforetime and her with many a prayer
And amorous solicitation wooed.
But, howsoever sore to her I sued,
Requiring her of love, no whit prevail
Could I with her; for she withouten fail
Clave to her chastity and gave no ear
To my solicitance. Then came a year
Of drought and dearth; and hardship terrible
There was. Food failed the folk and there befell
In all the land a famine passing sore.
One day at home I sat, when at the door
One knocked and going out, the cruel fair
I found, of whom I told thee, standing there;
And unto me, “O brother mine,” she said,
“Behold, I am for hunger well nigh dead
And with reared hands myself to thee betake,
Beseeching thee to feed me for God's sake.”
And “Know'st not how I love thee,” I replied,
“And how I for thy sake have pined and sighed
And suffered for thy love? Forsooth, no whit
Of food, except thou, in return for it,
Do amorously yield thyself to me,
Thee will I give.” But, “Better death,” quoth she,
“Than disobedience;” and turned away
From me and went; but, on the second day
Thereafter, with the like petition came
And I for answer rendered her the same.
Whereon she entered, faint and scant of breath,
And sat her down, nigh being unto death.
Then I before her set a mess of meat;
Whereat her eyes ran over and “To eat
Give me for God in heaven's sake,” quoth she,
“To whom pertaineth might and majesty!”
But “Nay, by Allah!” answered I. “Not so,
Except thyself to me, before thou go,
Thou yield;” and “Better death,” was her reply,
“Is than the wrath to me of God Most High.”
Withal untouched the food she left and went,
This verse repeating for her heartenment:
O Thou the Only God, Whose grace embraceth all that be,
Thine ears have heard my moan, Thine eyes have seen my misery.
Indeed, privation and distress are heavy on my head: I cannot tell of all the
woes which do beleaguer me.
I am as one athirst, that looks upon a running stream,
Yet may not drink a single draught of all that he doth see.
My flesh will have me buy its will: alack! its pleasures flee:
The sin that pays their price abides to all eternity.
For two days' space I saw of her no more;
Then she, a third time coming to my door,
Knocked and I sallied out to her. And lo!
Hunger away her voice had taken, so
That first she might not speak; but, presently,
Somedele herself recovering, quoth she,
(And haggard she with hunger was and gaunt,)
“See, o my brother, I am worn with want
And what to do, indeed, I do not know;
For I to none but thee my face can show.
Wilt thou not, then, for love of God Most High,
Feed me?” But still, “Not so,” did I reply,
“Excepting ruth thou have on my chagrin
And yield to me.” Wherewith she entered in
And there sat down. Now for the nonce no meat
Ready I had and cooked for her to eat;
So I went forth, thereof for her desire
To dress, and in the brazier kindled fire.
But, when the meat was cooked and in its place
Upon the platter laid, behold, the grace
Of God Most High there entered into me
And to myself I said, “Now out on thee!
This woman, weak and frail as women are
Of wit and faith, hath food forborne thus far,
Rather than do a thing of Holy Writ
Forbidden unto her, till she from it,
For stress of hunger, can endure no more:
Nay, time on time she doth and o'er and o'er
Refuse and thou persistest yet, forby,
In disobedience to God Most High!”
And “O my God, I do repent to thee
Of that which had been purposéd of me,”
I said; then took the food and to the maid
Bringing it in, the dish before her laid
And “Eat and be” I bade her “of good cheer:
There shall no harm betide thee. Have no fear;
For this is for the sake of God Supreme,
Whom only might and majesty beseem.”
This when she hearkened, lifting up her head
And hands to heaven, “O Thou my God,” she said,
“If this man be sincere in this he saith,
I pray Thee, of my service and my faith,
Be fire to do him hurt forbid of Thee,
Both in this world and in the world to be!
For Thou indeed art He that answereth prayer
And able art for doing whatsoe'er
Thou wilt.” Withal I left her and anew
The fire out in the brazier went to do.
Now 'twas the season of the winter cold
And from the brazier, as it chanced, there rolled
A burning coal and on my body fell:
But, by the ordinance of God, in Hell
And Heaven, as on earth, Omnipotent,
In whom all might and majesty consent,
Nor pain nor incommodity in aught
I felt and it was borne upon my thought
That God her prayer had answered. So I took
The hot coal in my hand (which else to brook
Had been uneath, but now it irked me not)
And going in to her, with it red-hot,
On my palm flaming, said to her, “Rejoice!
For God, behold, hath hearkened to the voice
Of that thy prayer and granted thy desire
To thee of me, forbidding thus the fire
To do me hurt.” Withal she from her hand
The morsel dropped and rising up a-stand,
Said, “O my God, Thou that art God, alone
Worthy of worship, now that Thou hast shown
Me my desire of this man and my prayer
Hast granted me for him and there no care
Is left me upon earth, I pray Thee now
Take Thou my soul to Thee forthright; for Thou
Almighty art, Omnipotent!” And He
Straight took her soul, His mercy on her be!”