The Ambassador

Day by day Zulaikha’s despair
Grew a weight too heavy for her to bear.
In blank pale longing, though overcast
With the black hue of sorrow, her days were passe
The father pitied the maiden’s grief
And counselled thus for her soul’s relief :
“A prudent envoy I needs must send
To Egypt’s Vizier that her woe may end,
A tender message from her to bear,
That the bonds of love may unite the pair.”
He chose a chamberlain deeply skilled :
With praise of his wisdom his ear he filled,
And with many a present most rich and rare
Bade him to Egypt’s vizier repair,
And say : " O Prince on whose threshold lies
Dust that is kissed by the circling skies,
May the favour of Heaven increase each day
Thy fame and honour and princely sway.
In the House of Purity shines my Sun
By whose splendour the envious moon is outdone.
Higher her place than the moon’s, I ween :
Her shadow never the sun has seen.
Purer than pearls in their virgin shells
Her splendour the lustre of stars excels.
She veils her moonlight from the world, and debars
From the sight of her beauty the curious stars.
Only her comb may loosen each tress,
And her mirror behold her loveliness.
Only the coils of her hair are blest
On her delicate foot for a while to rest.
The hem of her mantle— and only this —
As. she walks in the courtyard her foot may kiss.
Never her chin has been touched by her maid,
On her lip not the sugar-cane’s finger laid.
She shrinks away from that flower who throws
The veil of her beauty aside, the rose.
From the sweet narcissus her eyes decline,
For its blossom is heavy and drunk with wine.
Even her shadow’s pursuit she would shun,
And fly from the lustre of moon and sun.
To the stream and the fountain she will not repair
Lest her eye should meet her reflexion there.
She dwells in her home behind screen and bar.
Put the fame of her beauty .is known afar.
A hundred kings with their hearts on fire
In eager hope to her hand aspire.
From Rum to Damascus beyond the flood
Each heart for her love has drunk deep of blood.
But longing for Egypt has filled her breast,
And she turns her eye and her heart from the rest.
For Bum she can find in that heart no room,
And gay Damascus is naught but gloom.
Her eye towards Egypt has marked the road,
And the Nile of her tears has for Egypt flowed.
I know but her longing ; I know not the cause.
Or the charm that to Egypt tier spirit draws.
Tis her destined home, and from Egypt came
The dust, I ween, that composed her frame.
Kin thy sight it seem good, I have planned
To send her to thee in her chosen land.
If she he not peerless in beauty and grace
She may hold in thy palace a menials place.”
The Grand Vizier heard the speech, and, amazed,
To the highest heaven his head was raised.
He bowed and made answer : “ And what am I
That a seed of this doubt in my heart should lie ?
The grace of thy lord lifts me up from the mire,
And ’tis meet that my head to the heavens aspire.
Iam the dust which the cloud of spring
Bedews with the drops which he loves to fling.
If a hundred tongues like the grass-blades, grew,
My tongues to thank him were all too few.
The grace of the monarch is guarantee
That Fortune ever shall favour me.
With the head of my foot, with the eyes of my shoe,
I would hasten to meet him, his pleasure to do.
But to Egypt’s ruler, the great and wise,
I am bound so closely by duty’s ties,
That, were I absent a single hour,
I should feel the weight of the sword of his power.
Then pardon the servant whom duties bind,
And impute not the blame to a haughty mind.
Should the king thy lord to my prayer attend.
Two hundred litters of gold will I send
With thousands of boys and maidens, all
Like the Tuba- tree, graceful, and straight, and tall ;
Those boys are noble, and free from vice,
And purer than children of Paradise.
Their laughing lips are most sweet, with rare
Pearl and ruby they bind their hair ;
With caps cocjuettishly set on the side
Of their heads, on saddles of gold they ride.
And the maidens are robed like the Houris; they
Are pure of all blemish of water and clay.
Above their bright faces are full-drawn bows,
And their sweet locks shadow their cheeks of rose.
All gems and jewels their beauty adorn,
And veiled in litters of gold are they borne.
Their guides shall be elders, the pillars of State,
Prudent in council, and wise in debate,
To receive the fair maid with due honour, and bring
To my humble home the sweet child of the king.”
He ceased : the envoy bowed down his head,
And kissed the ground at his feet, and said :
“ Spring of the glory of Egypt, thou
Hast added a grace to thy favours now.
But send no escort ; my lord will provide
From his ample household a train for the bride,
The boys and the delicate maids who dwell
In lvis courts are too many for number to tell ;
Bobes of honour in store has he,
More than the leaves of a shady tree,
Showering gems from a liberal, hand
More than the desert has grains of sand ;
To please thee only his wish is bent,
And blest is the man with whom he is content.
If the vintage be worthy thy table, he
Will quickly send the sweet fruit to thee,”