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picture and whose portrait it is. And whatsoever he desireth of me, that will I give him.’
‘By Allah, O my son,’ said his host, ‘I am Aboulcasim es Sendelani, and this is an extraordinary thing how fate hath thus led thee to me!’ When Ibrahim heard this, he rose to him, and embraced him and kissed his head and hands, saying, ‘God on thee, tell me whose portrait it is.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered the other and rising, opened a closet and brought out a number of books, in which he had painted the same picture. Then said he, ‘Know, O my son, that the original of this portrait is the daughter of my father’s brother, whose name is Aboulleith. She dwells in Bassora, of which city her father is governor, and her name is Jemileh. There is not a fairer than she on the face of the earth; but she is averse from men and cannot hear speak of them in her company. Now I once repaired to my uncle, to the intent that he should marry her to me, and was lavish of wealth to him; but he would not consent; and when his daughter knew of my offer, she was enraged and sent to me to say, amongst other things, “If thou have wit, tarry not in this city; else wilt thou perish and thy blood will be on thine own head.” For she is a virago of viragoes. So I left Bassora, broken-hearted, and limned this portrait of her in books and scattered them abroad in various countries, so haply they might fall into the hands of a comely youth like thyself and he contrive to win to her and peradventure she might fall in love with him, purposing to take a promise of him that, when he should have gotten possession of her, he would show her to me, though but for a moment from afar off.’
When Ibrahim heard this, he bowed his head awhile in thought and Es Sendelani said to him, ‘O my son, I have not seen in Baghdad a comelier than thou, and meseems that, when she sees thee, she will love thee. Art thou
