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I know that the branch has been plucked before thee; So, O capparis-branch, thou dost wrong, it is plain.
I used erst to capture myself the wild deer. How comes it the chase doth the hunter enchain?
But the strangest of all that is told of thee is, I was snared, and thou heard’st not the voice of my pain.
Yet grant not my prayer. If I’m jealous for thee Of thyself how much more of myself? Nor again,
As long as life lasteth in me, will I say, “O marvel of beauty, how long this disdain?”
Meanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, when, in the absence of the Khalif, she had done this thing with Cout el Culoub, abode perplexed and said to herself, ‘What answer shall I make the Khalif, when he comes back and asks for her?’ Then she called an old woman, who was with her, and discovered her secret to her, saying, ‘What shall I do, seeing that Cout el Culoub is no more?’ ‘O my lady,’ replied the old woman, ‘the time of the Khalif’s return is at hand; but do thou send for a carpenter and bid him make a figure of wood in the shape of a corpse. We will dig a grave for it and bury it in the middle of the palace: then do thou build an oratory over it and set therein lighted lamps and candles and command all in the palace to put on mourning. Moreover, do thou bid thy slave-girls and eunuchs, as soon as they know of the Khalif’s approach, spread straw in the vestibules, and when the Khalif enters and asks what is the matter, let them say, “Cout el Culoub is dead, may God abundantly replace her to thee! and for the honour in which she was held of our mistress, she hath buried her in her own palace.” When the Khalif hears this, it will be grievous to him and he will weep: then will he cause recitations of the Koran to be made over her and will watch by night over her tomb. If he should say to himself, “My cousin Zubeideh has compassed the death of Cout el Culoub out of jealousy,” or if love-longing should master him and he
