Ḥârith is in a circle of scholars, when a lame man makes his appearance, and after saluting them describes his former affluence and present penury in a very poetical and figurative style. Ḥârith perceiving his genius, and pitying his distress, offers him a denar, on condition that he will improvise some lines in praise of it. This the lame man at once does, and on Ḥârith offering him another denar on condition of his blaming it, he recites another composition in dis­praise of money. Ḥârith then recognizes in the lame man Abû Zayd, and rebukes him for his imposture. Abû Zayd defends him­self in some new verses. The opening address of Abû Zayd is in imitation of a style said to be common among the Arabs of the desert.

Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm, related: I was set with some comrades in a company wherein he that made appeal was never bootless, and the rubbing of the fire-shafts never failed, and the flame of contention never blazed.—And while we were catching from each other the cues of recitations, and betaking ourselves to novel­ties of anecdote,—Behold there stood by us one on whom was a worn garment, and in whose walk was a limp.—And he said, O ye best of treasures, joys of your kindred: Health to you this morning; may ye enjoy your morning draught.—Look on one who was erewhile master of guest-room and largess, wealth and bounty, land and villages, dishes and feasting.—But the frowning of calamities ceased not from him, and the warrings of sorrows, and the fire-flakes of the malice of the envious, and the succession of dark befallings,—Until the court was empty, and the yard was bare, and the fountain sank, and the dwelling was desolate, and the hall was void, and the chamber stone-strewed.—And fortune shifted so that the household wailed; and the stalls were vacant, so that the rival had compassion; and the cattle and the goods they perished, so that the envious and malignant pitied.—And to such a pass did we come, through assailing fortune and prostrating need,—That we were shod with soreness, and fed on choking, and filled our bellies with ache, and wrapped our entrails upon hunger, and anointed our eyes with watching, and made pits our home, and deemed thorns a smooth bed, and came to forget our saddles, and thought destroying death to be sweet, and the ordained day to be tardy.— And now is there any one generous to heal, bountiful to bestow?—For by Him who made me to spring from Ḳaylah, surely I am now a brother of penury, I have not a nights’ victual.

Said Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm: Now I pitied his distresses, and inclined to the eliciting of his rhymes.— So I drew forth for him a denar, and said to him, to prove him, “If thou praise it in verse it is thine, full surely.”—And he betook himself to recite on the spot, borrowing nothing:—

How noble is that yellow one, whose yellowness is pure,

Which traverses the regions, and whose journeying is afar.

Told abroad are its fame and repute:

Its lines are set as the secret sign of wealth;

Its march is coupled with the success of endeavours;

Its bright look is loved by mankind;

As though its ore had been molten of their hearts.

By its aid whoever has gotten it in his purse assails boldly,

Though kindred be perished, or tardy to help.

Oh charming are its purity and brightness;

Charming are its sufficiency and help.

How many a ruler is there whose rule has been perfected by it!

How many a sumptuous one is there whose grief, but for it, would be endless!

How many a host of cares has one charge of it put to flight!

How many a full moon has a sum of it brought down!

How many a one burning with rage, whose coal is flaming,

Has it been secretly whispered to, and then his anger has softened.

How many a prisoner, whom his kin had yielded,

Has it delivered, so that his gladness has been unmingled,

Now by the Truth of the Lord whose creation brought it forth,

Were it not for His fear, I should say its power is supreme.

Then he stretched forth his hand after his recitation, and said, “The honourable man performs what he promises, and the rain-cloud pours if it has thundered.” —So I threw him the denar, and said, “Take it; no grudging goes with it.”—And he put it in his mouth and said, “God bless it.”—Then he girt up his skirts for departure, after that he had paid his thanks.—But there arose in me, through his pleasantry, a giddiness of desire which made me ready to incur indebtedness.—So I bared another denar, and said, “Does it suit thee to blame this, and then gather it?”—And he recited im­promptu, and sang with speed:—

Ruin on it for a deceiver and insincere,

The yellow one with two faces like a hypocrite!

It shows forth with two qualities to the eye of him that looks on it,

The adornment of the loved one, the colour of the lover.

Affection for it, think they who judge truly,

Tempts men to commit that which shall anger their Maker.

But for it no thief’s right hand were cut off;

Nor would tyranny be displayed by the impious;

Nor would the niggard shrink from the night-farer;

Nor would the delayed claimant mourn the delay of him that with­holds;

Nor would men call to God from the envious who casts at them.

Moreover, the worst quality that it possesses

Is that it helps thee not in straits,

Save by fleeing from thee like a runaway slave.

Well done he who casts it away from a hill-top,

And who, when it whispers to him with the whispering of a lover,

Says to it in the words of the truth-speaking, the veracious,

“I have no mind for intimacy with thee,—begone!”

Then said I to him, “How abundant is thy shower!” He said, “Agreement binds strongest.”—So I tossed him the second denar and said, “Consecrate them both with the Twice-read Chapter.”—He cast it into his mouth and joined it with its twin,—And turned away blessing his morning’s walk, praising the assembly and its bounty. —Said Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm: Now my heart whispered me that he was Abû Zayd, and that his going lame was for a trick;—So I called him back and said to him, “Thou art recognised by thy eloquence, so straighten thy walk.”—He said, “If thou be the son of Hammâm, be thou greeted with honour and live long among the honourable.”—I said, “I am Ḥârith; but what is thy condition amid all thy fortunes.”—He said, “I change between two conditions, distress and ease; and I veer with two winds, the tempest and the breeze.”—I said, “And how hast thou pretended lameness? the like of thee plays not buffoon.”—Then his cheerfulness, which had shone forth, waned; but he recited as he moved away:—

I have feigned to be lame, not from love of lameness, but that I may knock at the gate of relief.

For my cord is thrown on my neck, and I go as one who ranges freely.

Now if men blame me I say, “Excuse me: sure there is no guilt on the lame.”