In this Assembly Abû Zayd laments the decay of his strength, and his advancing age, under the semblance of a mighty and valiant hero, to provide a shroud for whom he asks the bounty of the company.

Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm, related: I was making towards Mayyâfâriḳîn with a company of the well suited, men who disputed not in familiar talk, who knew not the taste of dissembled hatred.—And with them I was as one who quits not his abode, who travels not from his friend and neighbour;—And when we had brought to their knees the camels of journeying, and had passed from our saddles to our nests, we commanded each other to bear in mind companionship, and we forbade separation in a strange land.—And we took a chamber that we might frequent it at the two ends of day and present each other with the choice of the news.—Now while we were there on a certain day, and had strung ourselves on the thread of union,—Lo! there stood by us one with a bold tongue and a loud voice;—And he greeted with the greeting of a wizard who blows on knots; of one who hunts all, from the lion to the sheep. —Then he said:

Habeo, amici, miram narrationem, à quâ exemplum sibi sumat auditor peritus et intelligens.

Vidi in flore ætatis meæ juvenem fortissimum, cui gladii erat acies penetrantis:

In certamen irruit perinde ac si certus esset aliqud audendi, et non pertimuit.

His præliis usque eo angustias dilatavit ut id quod obstructum fuerat pateret.

Ubi provocavit adversarios nunquam rediit à pugnæ contentione sine spiculo sanguine imbuto:

Nec unquam instituit arcem oppugnare arduam, occlusam, formi-dabilem, timendam,

Quin clamatum sit, cùm id instituisset: Victoria à cœlo et præsi-dium appropinquat.

Præterea, quot noctes egit vestibus adolescentiæ tectus nitidis;

Molles puellæ et dabant ei et receperunt ab eo oscula; et ille ubique gratus fuit et jucundus.

Sed tempus non desiit fortitudinem illius et vires eripere;

Donec anni ita eum afflixerint ut ab illo conjunctissimi amici dece-derent.

Debilis fuit magus, nec morbum ejus sanare potuit, et tumultuatus fuit medicus:

Ita ut discesserit à candidis puellis, et discesserint ab eo, postea quam et ab eis responsum accepisset, eisque respondisset.

Evasitque incurvus formâ, nam quicunque vivit miseriis senectutis est obnoxius.

Ecce illum hodiè veste funebri involutum! Et quis mortui pere-grini curat reliquias.*

Then he broke openly into wailing, and wept with the weeping of the lover over his beloved.—And when his tear was stanched and his passion cooled, he said, O ye, who are as a pasture to the forage-scouts, an example to the generous; by Allah, I have not spoken with false­hood, I have not told you save from beholding.—Now if there were a thong to my staff, or a thin shower to my cloud, I would myself have done that to which I call you; I would not stand as one who directs to it.—But how can there be flying without a wing, or is it a crime on one that he is poor?

Said the narrator: Then began the company to con­sult of what they should advise, and to whisper of what they should do;—And he suspected that they were in purpose to dismiss him with refusal, or to importune him for proof.—And it escaped him to say, O mirages of the plain, white shingle of the hollow! What is this taking of thought which shame revolts at?—It is as though ye were tasked with a heavy labour, not with a rag; or had been asked the gift of a province, not of a mantle; or had been urged to the clothing of the Ka‘beh, not to the shrouding of a corpse.—Fie on him whose rock is not moist, whose gravel oozes not!

Now when the company had perceived his glibness and the saltness of his savour, each one made him whole by a gift, and bore with his light rain through fear of his flood.—Said Al Ḥârith, son of Hammâm: Now this beggar was standing behind me, hidden by my back from my eye.—But when the company had contented him by their out-pouring, and it was incumbent on me to take example by them, I drew the ring from my little finger and turned to him my gaze,—And lo! he was our Shaykh, the Serûji, without deception, without dispute.—Then I was sure it was a lying tale he had lied, and a net that he had laid.—But not the less did I fold his cloth over its rent and keep his splayness of tooth from inspection,—And threw him the ring, and said, “Use it for the cost of the mourning as­sembly.”—He said, “Well done! how burns thy flame! how noble is thy deed!”—Then he went off, running straight forward and trotting his trot as of old.—But I longed for a knowledge of his dead man, and to examine his pretence to pious duty;—So I struck my leg and kindled the ardour of my running, until I reached him a bow-shot off, and beheld him clearly in an empty place.—Then I caught him by the joining of his sleeves and stopped him from the career of his race-course,—And said to him, “By Allah, thou hast no refuge from me, and no escape, until thou show me thy shrouded corpse.—Whereupon he pointed to himself; and I said, “God fight against thee; how playful art thou in craft, how wily after the grist!”—Then I returned to my companions as returns the scout who lies not to his people, who embellishes not his speech.—And I told them what I had seen; I disguised not, nor did I dissemble.—And they burst into laughter at the matter, and cursed that dead man.