This is one of the two Assemblies of Ḥarîri which have been translated and annotated by De Sacy in his Chrestomathy. Ḥârith in his wanderings comes to Alexandria, and, in accordance with his custom, makes the acquaintance of the Kadi, who, as appears in the sequel, is a good-natured and benevolent man. One evening, in winter, the Kadi is distributing the public alms, when an ill-looking old man is brought in by a young and handsome woman who ac­cuses him of having married her on false pretences. She declares that he had deceived her father by giving out that he had an ex­cellent trade as a pearl-merchant; that he had been incautiously accepted, and that now, when it was too late, she had discovered that he had no business at all. Moreover, he had taken all her dress and furniture, piece by piece, and sold it to keep himself in idleness, leaving her and her child to starve. The Kadi is indignant, and threatens to send the husband to prison, unless he can clear himself of the charge. The defendant is in no way disconcerted, but at once improvises some elegant verses, in which he admits his poverty, and that he had sold his wife’s effects, but denies that he had deceived her in calling himself a “pearl-stringer,” for the pearls which he meant were the pearls of thought, by stringing which into elegant poems he had been accustomed to make a large income from the liberality of the rich and noble. Now, however, times were changed; war and trouble had come upon the earth, and a race of niggards had succeeded the generous patrons of the old days. The Kadi accepts the excuse, bids the woman submit herself to her husband, and gives them some of the alms money; on receiving which the old man triumphantly carries off his wife. Ḥârith had discovered that it was Abû Zayd, but was afraid to tell the Kadi, because in that case he might have declined to relieve such an im­postor. But when he is gone, Ḥârith cannot forbear suggesting that he should be followed and some news of him brought back. A messenger is sent and returns quickly to say that he found Abû Zayd dancing and singing in joy at his success. The Kadi treats the affair as a good jest; and declares that if he had known who he was he would have been still more liberal. This is the first appearance of Abû Zayd’s young wife, who in the fortieth Assembly is made to rival her husband in wit, learning, and volubility.

Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm, related: The liveliness of youth and the desire of gain sped me on until I had tra­versed all that is between Farghânah and Ghânah.—And I dived into depths to gather fruits, and plunged into perils to reach my needs.—Now I had caught from the lips of the learned, and understood from the command­ments of the wise—That it behoves the well-bred, the sagacious, when he enters a strange city, to conciliate its Kadi and possess himself of his favour:—That his back may be strengthened in litigation, that he may be secure in a strange land from the wrong of the powerful.—So I took this doctrine as my guide and made it the leading-cord to my advantages.—And I entered not a city, I went not into a lair, but I mingled myself with its judge as water is mingled with wine, and strengthened myself by his patronage as bodies are strengthened by souls.— Now while I was in presence of the judge of Alexandria one cold evening, and he had brought out the alms­money to divide it among the needy,—Behold there entered an ill-looking old man whom a young matron dragged along.—And she said: God strengthen the Kadi and through him make concord to be lasting:—Know that I am a woman of stock the most noble, of root the most pure, of mother’s and father’s kin the most honour­able:—My character is moderation, my disposition is contentment; my nature is to be a goodly help-meet; be­tween me and my neighbours is a wide difference.—Now whenever there wooed me any who had built up honour or were lords of wealth—My father silenced and chid them and misliked their suit and their gift:—Making plea that he had covenanted with God Most High that he would not ally himself save with the master of a handicraft.—Then did Providence destine for my cala­mity and pain that this deceiver should present himself in my father’s hall;—And swear among his people that he fulfilled his condition:—Asserting that long time he had strung pearl to pearl and sold them for great price. —Then was my father deceived by the gilding of his falsehood, and married me to him before proving his condition.—And when he had drawn me forth from my covert, and carried me away from my people, and re­moved me to his habitation, and brought me under his bond,—I found him slothful, a sluggard; I discovered him to be a lie-a-bed, a slumberer.—Now I had come to him with apparel and goodly show, with furniture and affluence.—But he ceased not to sell it in a losing market and to squander the price in greedy feeding,— Until he had altogether destroyed whatever was mine, and spent my property on his need.—So when he had made to me to forget the taste of rest and left my house cleaner than my hand’s palm;—I said to him, “Sir, know that there is no concealment after distress, no perfume after the wedding.—Rise up then to gain something by thy trade, to gather the fruit of thy skill.”—But he de­clared that his trade had been struck with slackness through the violence that was abroad in the earth.— Also I have a boy by him, thin as a toothpick: neither of us gets a fill by him, and through hunger our weeping to him ceases not.—So I have brought him to thee and set him before thee, that thou mayest test the substance of his assertion, and decide between us as God shall show thee.

Then turned the Kadi to him and said: “Thou hast heard thy wife’s story; now testify of thyself: else will I discover thy deceit and bid thy imprisonment.”—But he looked down as looks the serpent; then girt up his garment for a long strife, and said:

Hear my story, for it is a wonder; there is laughter in its tale, and there is wailing.

I am a man on whose qualities there is no blame, neither is there suspicion on his glory.

Serûj is my home where I was born, and my stock is Ghassân when I trace my lineage:

And study is my business; to dive deep in learning is my pursuit; and, oh! how excellent a seeking.

And my capital is the magic of speech, out of which are moulded both verse and prose.

I dive into the deep of eloquence, and from it I choose the pearls and select them:

I cull of speech the ripe fruit and the new; while another gathers but firing of the wood:

I take the phrase of silver, and when I have moulded it men say that it is gold.

Now formerly I drew forth wealth by the learning I had gotten; I milked by it:

And my foot’s sole in its dignity mounted to ranges above which were no higher steps.

Oft were the presents brought in pomp to my dwelling, but I accepted not everyone who gave.

But to-day learning is the chattel of slackest sale in the market of him on whom hope depends.

The honour of its sons is not respected; neither are relationship and alliance with them regarded.

It is as though they were corpses in their courtyards, from whose stench men withdraw and turn aside.

Now my heart is confounded through my trial by the times;— strange is their changing.

The stretch of my arm is straitened through the straitness of my hand’s means; cares and grief assail me.

And my fortune, the blameworthy, has led me to the paths of that which honour deems base.

For I sold until there remained to me not a mat nor household goods to which I might turn.

So I indebted myself until I had burdened my neck by the carry­ing of a debt such that ruin had been lighter.

Then five days I wrapped my entrails upon hunger; but when the hunger scorched me,

I could see no goods except her outfit, in the selling of which I might go about and bestir myself.

So I went about with it; but my soul was loathing, and my eye tearful, and my heart saddened.

But when I made free with it, I passed not the bound of her con­sent, that her wrath should rise against me.

And if what angers her be her fancying that it was my fingers that should make gain by stringing;

Or that when I purposed to woo her I tinseled my speech that my need might prosper:

I swear by Him to whose Ka‘beh the companies journey when the fleet camels speed them onward,

That deceit towards chaste ladies is not of my nature, nor are glozing and lying my badge.

Since I was reared nought has attached to my hand save the swiftly-moving reeds and the books:

For it is my wit that strings necklaces, not my hand; what is strung is my poetry and not chaplets.

And this is the craft I meant as that by which I gathered and gained.

So give ear to my explaining, as thou hast given ear to her; and show respect to neither, but judge as is due.

Now when he had completed the structure of his story and perfected his recitation, the Kadi turned to the young woman, being heart struck at the verses:— And said, Know that it is settled among all judges and those who bear authority—That the race of the generous is perished, and that the times incline to the niggardly.—Now I imagine that thy husband is truthful in his speech, free from blame.—For lo! he has acknow­ledged the debt to thee, and spoken the clear truth; he has given proof that he can string verses, and it is plain that he is bared to the bone.—Now to vex him who shows excuse is baseness, to imprison the destitute is a sin: to conceal poverty is self-denial, to await relief with patience is devotion.—So return to thy chamber and pardon the master of thy virginity:—Refrain from thy sharpness of tongue and submit to the will of thy Lord.—Then in the almsgiving he assigned them a portion, and of the dirhems he gave them a pinch; and said to them, “Beguile yourselves with this drop, moisten yourselves with this driblet:—And endure against the fraud and the trouble of the time, for ‘it may be that God will bring victory or some ordinance from himself.’”—Then they arose to go, and on the old man was the joy of one loosed from the bond, and the exulting of one who is in affluence after need.

Said the narrator: Now I knew that he was Abû Zayd in the hour that his sun peeped forth and his spouse reviled him:—And I went near to declare his versatility and the fruiting of his divers branches.—But then I was afraid that the Kadi would hit on his false­hood and the lackering of his tongue, and not see fit, when he knew him, to train him to his bounty.— So I forebore from speech with the forbearing of one who doubts, and I folded up mention of him as the roll is folded over the writing:—Save that when he had departed and had come whither he was to come,— I said, “If there were one who would set out on his track, he might bring us the kernel of his story, and what tissues he is spreading forth.—Then the Kadi sent one of his trusty ones after him and bade him to spy out of his tidings.—But he delayed not to return bound­ing in, and to come back loudly laughing.—Said the Kadi to him, “Well, Abû Maryam!—He said, “I have seen a wonder; I have heard what gives me a thrill.”— Said the Kadi to him, “What hast thou seen, and what is it thou hast learnt?”—He said, “Since the old man went forth he has not ceased to clap with his hands and to caper with his feet and to sing with the full of his cheeks:

I was near falling into trouble through an impudent jade;

And should have gone to prison but for the Kadi of Alexandria.”

Then the Kadi laughed till his hat fell off, and his composure was lost:—But when he returned to gravity and had followed excess by prayer for pardon,—He said, “O God, by the sanctity of thy most honoured servants, forbid that I should imprison men of letters.”—Then said he to that trusty one, “Hither with him!” and he set forth earnest in the search; but returned after a while, telling that the man was gone.—Then said the Kadi, “Know that if he had been here he should have had no cause to fear,—For I would have imparted to him as he deserves; I would have shown him that the latter state is better for him than the former.”—Said Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm, Now, when I saw the leaning of the Kadi towards him, and that yet the fruit of the Kadi’s notice was lost to him,—There came on me the repentance of Al Farazdaḳ when he put away Nawâr, or of Al Kosa‘î when the daylight appeared.