This composition is in the style of the eighth and the earlier part of the twenty-ninth Assembly. Abû Zayd describes, in a company of distinguished men of literary tastes in Shiraz, where Ḥârith has met them, a wine-cask metaphorically under the simile of a maiden, for whom, as he tells the people, he desires to purchase wedding attire. They give him money, and it turns out that by the wedding attire is meant a flagon and a cup, which were necessary to wed as it were the wine-cask to the drinker. The allegory may have been suggested by the circumstance that the scene of the event is Shiraz, a city celebrated for its wine, or rather for the manufacture of a peculiar kind of wine-flagons, which on account of their exquisite workmanship are used in preference to others for presenting in them wines of superior quality.

Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm, narrated: In my roam-ings I met in Shiraz with an Assembly, who invited the passer-by to stay, even if he should be in haste, and I was unable to tear myself away from them, and my foot would not move to step past them, for I inclined to them, so that I might test their intrinsic worth and see how their fruit would be from their blossom. Now they proved to be select people, and he who inclined to them was profited, and while we were engaged in talk pleasanter than the songs of birds and more delightful than the milk of grapes, there entered our midst a man in two tattered pieces of clothing who had wellnigh reached the two terms of life. He greeted us with a glib tongue, and expressed himself in the delivery of the eloquent; then he sat down as one joining in the assembly, with his hands round his knees, and said: “O Allah, let us be of the rightly guided.” Now the people made little of him, on account of his ragged attire, forgetting that they would have to reckon with the two things smallest in him (his tongue and heart), and they began to bandy between them the chapter of rhetoric, counting its aloës as common wood, but he vouchsafed not a word, nor declared himself by any sign until he had probed their intellectual powers, and knew who of them made rise the scale and who weighed it down. But when he had brought to light their buried treasures and exhausted their quivers, he said. “O ye people, if you had known that behind the plug there is pure wine you would not have slighted a bearer of tattered garments, but asked what parts he possesses.” Then he let flow of the springs of learning, and of choice sayings that whereby he drew forth marvels of wonderment and which was worthy to be written in fluid gold; and when he had captivated all their senses, and made every heart turn to him, he stirred for taking his departure, and made ready to go. But the company clung to him and barred the course of his progress, saying: “We have just seen the sign of thy arrow, now make known to us the shell of thy egg and its yolk.” Then he was silent with the silence of one choked by tears, whereupon he wailed so that he was pitied by all. Said the narrator: Now when I saw the mixture and tinge of Abû Zayd, and his wonted ways and manners of proceeding, I looked hard at the old man, with all his defacement of countenance and ful­someness, and lo! it was he himself. But I concealed his secret, as an internal disease is concealed, and veiled his cunning scheme, although he did not think so, until when he ceased wailing, he blinked at me with an eye full of laughter, whereupon he began to indite with the tongue of one who shams tearfulness:

“I crave Allah’s forgiveness, humbling myself, for all the sins whose heavy load burdens me.

O folks, how many olden maids kept at home, though in assemblies were their virtues praised about

Have I cut down not fearing from any heir that might revenge them on me or claim a fine.

And when the sin thereof was laid at my door, I boldly cleared myself and said: fate it was.

And never stopped my soul its headlong career in cutting damsels down, and kept going stray,

Till hoariness shone on the crown of my head and checked me from performing such evil deeds.

So since my temples have turned grey never shed I any more a maiden’s blood, old or young,

But now I rear, in spite of what may be seen of my condition and of my slacking trade,

A lass who for a long time has stayed at home, sheltered and veiled carefully from air itself.

And she in spite of being thus kept recluse, has wooers for her comeliness and pleasingness.

But for her outfit, at the least, I can’t do without a hundred, though I try as I may,

While in my hand there is not one silver coin, the ground is empty and the sky yields no rain.

Now is one here to help me that I may wed her amidst the singing-girls’ cheering strain,

Then let him wash my grief with its proper soap and cleanse my heart from sorrows that worry me,

That he may cull my praises, whose fragrancy will only cease to breathe when man prays in vain.”

Said the narrator: Then there was none left in the company but his palm opened to him and his kindness reached him, and when his wish had proved successful and his hundred was completed, he praised them as beseems the upright, and tucked up his skirt for departure. But I followed him, wishing to learn who was the foster-daughter of his chamber and whom he had cut down in his early life, and it was as if the swiftness of my rising had made him aware of my intention, for he approached me and said: “Hearken to me,

“‘Cutting down’ means with one like me ‘thinning the wine’ not, O friend, with the lance or sword killing a man.

And the maid, kept at home with me, means the daughter of the grape-tree, not virgin of high descent [extraction].

And to wed her to cup and flask was the errand, which thou saw’st me intent upon when I joined you.

Understand then what I have said, and decide on kind forbear­ance, if so thy will, or rebuking.”

Then he said: “I am quarrelsome and thou art faint­hearted, so there is a wide gulf between us.” There­upon he bade me farewell, and went away, making me send after him more than one glance of loving affection.