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his eyes grew bloodshot and his face became of the colour of dust; his nostrils swelled, his lips protruded and the terrors of his aspect redoubled. And he repeated the following verses:
Abrizeh, have mercy nor leave me to sigh, Who am slain by the glance of thy Yemani eye![1]
My body is wasted, my patience at end, And my heart for thy cruelty racked like to die.
Thy glances with sorcery ravish all hearts; My reason is distant and passion is nigh.
Though thou drewst to thy succour the world full of troops, I’d not stir till my purpose accomplished had I.
Thereupon Abrizeh wept sore and said to him, “Out on thee, O Ghezban! How darest thou demand this of me, O son of shame and nursling of lewdness? Dost thou think all folk are alike!” When the pestilent slave heard this, he was enraged and his eyes reddened: and he came up to her and smote her with the sword on her neck and killed her. Then he made off into the mountains, driving her horse before him with the treasure. In the agonies of death, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Merjaneh took him and laid him by her side, after doing him the necessary offices; and behold, the child fastened to its mother’s breast, and she dead. When Merjaneh saw this, she cried out grievously and rent her clothes and cast dust on her head and buffeted her cheeks, till the blood came, saying, “Alas, my mistress! Alas, the pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black slave, after all thy prowess!” As she sat weeping, there arose a great cloud of dust and darkened the plain; but, after awhile, it lifted and discovered a numerous army. Now this was the army of King Herdoub, the princess Abrizeh’s father, who, hearing that his daughter had fled to Baghdad, she and
- ↑ He likens the glance of her eye to the blade of a Yemen sword,—a comparison of frequent occurrence in Arabic poetry.
