At dusk they locked the gate and took the key,
And then a damsel went to Zál and said:—
“All is prepared, so come.”
Thereat the chief,
All wooer-like, set out toward the palace.
Meanwhile black-eyed and rosy-cheeked Rúdába—
A cypress over which the full moon shone—
Went to the roof, and, when the son of Sám
The cavalier appeared, that high-born maid
Unlocked her coral lips and cried to him:—
“Thou art well come, O youth of noble birth!
The Maker's blessing be on thee, the arch
Of circling heaven be underneath thy feet,
And may my maid be blithe of heart and glad,
For, top to toe, thou art as she described thee.
To foot it thus from thy pavilion
Must irk thy royal feet.”
He heard the voice
And saw upon the wall a sun-cheeked damsel,
Whose beauty set the roof a-gleam like gems,
Whose blushes set the ground a-flush like rubies.
He thus made answer: “O thou moon-faced one!
My blessing and the Grace of heaven be thine.
How many nights with eyes up-turned to Spica
Have I entreated Him who ruleth all,
To let me privily behold thy face!
Now thou dost make me happy with thy voice,
Thy tender words and gentleness. Oh! find
Some means to let me look on thee! For why
Shouldst thou be on the roof and I below?”
Zál gazed on her
In marvel at her hair and face. She heard
Him kiss that musky lasso oft. He said:—
“This is not well; may no sun shine when I
Shall lay a wanton hand upon my Life
And put a spearpoint to this wounded heart.”
He took a lasso from his servant, coiled
And lightly flung it in his breathless haste.
The noose caught and he mounted. Fairy-face
Advanced to welcome him, she clasped his hand,
And both intoxicate with love descended,
Then from aloft
Zál dropped his lasso and descending straight
Went from the palace of his lovely mate.