University of Virginia Library

VIII.The Mad Lover.

(Quoth Aboulabbas the grammarian,
In all Chaldea is no wiser man,)
I once did journey with a company
To El Beríd in Mesopotamie,
And by the Convent of Heraclius
We lighted down midway, to hearten us
And in the shadow of the walls to shun
Somedele the midday fierceness of the sun.
And presently there came us out unto
A servant of the monastery, who
With us full instant was to enter there,
For that therein in keeping madmen were,
He said, “and of them one who speaketh store
Of wisdom, such as ye will wonder sore
To hear.” So we arose and entering,
Came, after seeing this and th' other thing,
Unto a cell where one apart from all
Sat with bare head and gazed upon the wall
Nor turned, to see who entered in, his eyes.
We gave him greeting, true-believer-wise,
And he our salutation rendered us
Again, but was nowise solicitous
To cast an eye on us, nor turned his head
To view us. Whereupon the servant said,
“Prithee, some verses unto him say ye;
For, when he heareth verse, then speaketh he.”
So I what best to mind recall I might,
In praise of God's Apostle, did recite;
And he toward us, hearing what I said,
Turning his face, with these his answer made:
God indeed knoweth I am sore afflicted: I suffer so, I may not tell the whole.
Two souls I have: one in this place is dwelling: Another country holds my second soul.
Meseems the absent one is like the present And suffers under the same weight of dole.
Then unto us, “Have I said well or not?”
Turning, he questioned us; and I, “God wot,
Thou hast said well and passing well,” replied.
Then he put out his hand and from his side
Took up a stone; whereat we fled from him,
Ourselves misdoubting of his antick whim,
Lest it belike at us he should have cast.
But therewithal to beating hard and fast
Upon his breast he fell and “Fear ye not,”
Said; “but draw nigh and hear from me somewhat
I have it now in mind to say to you:
Receive it ye from me.” Wherefore we drew
Again anigh him, putting off affright,
And he the ensuing verses did recite:
When they made their beasts of burden kneel, as day grew nigh and nigher, Then they mounted and the camels bore away my heart's desire.
When mine eyes perceived my loved one through the crannied prison-wall, Then I cried, with streaming eyelids and a heart for love afire,
“Turn, thou leader of the camels: let me bid my love farewell!” For her absence and estrangement, life and hope in me expire.
Still I kept my troth and failed not from her love. Ah, would I knew What she did with that our trothplight, if she kept her faith entire!
Then, “Know'st thou what she did?” To me he said;
And I, “Ay do I,” answered; “she is dead.”
Whereat I saw his face change, hearing me,
And to his feet he sprang and “Out on thee!”
He cried. “'Fore heaven, say, how knowest thou
That she is dead?” And I, “If she yet now
Did live, she had not left thee in this place
To pine for lack of her.” “By God, the case
That changeth, thou art right,” he answered, “sir;
And I care not to live on after her.”
Therewith his body shook and on his face
He fell and stirred not. Then unto the place
We ran and raised him softly from the ground
And shook and called him, but in vain, and found
Him dead. So over him with tears mourned we
And buried him in peace. Then, presently
Leaving the convent, unto El Bérid
I journeyed on and having done my need,
Back in due season to Baghdad did fare
And going in unto the Khalif there,
El Mutawekkil, he by chance the trace
Of late-shed tears espied upon my face
And questioned me of what the cause might be.
So unto him the piteous history
Of the poor madman all I did relate;
Whereat he sorrowed, for his piteous fate
To him was grievous. Then to me, “What whim
Moved thee to deal thus cruelly with him?
By Allah, did I think that of intent
Thou hadst done this,” he said, “I punishment
Would lay on thee!” And sent his court away
And mourned for the mad lover all that day.