et thee drink hope from the fountain of my words, because
I wish thee well."

"Has, then, Zuleikha not closed her ear to the poorest of her slaves?"
exclaimed the overjoyed Mirza. "And will my heart not be lacerated
by the thorn of her displeasure? Allah min! Allah bir! The God of
thousands is one only God! Great is His goodness and wonderful are His
ways! What have I done that He hath guided the stream of my songs to
the sea of beauty?"

Fatima told him he did well to prize the merciful goodness of Allah
and the loveliness of her mistress, who was a "jewel in the ring of
beauty, a pearl in the shell of fortune." Her noble lady, she said,
would have given token of her favor before had not her virtuous
modesty exceeded her beauty, and had she not feared the displeasure
of her father, who tenderly loved her and would never consent to her
stooping to a poor mirza. Then she proceeded to tell how Achmed
Chan of Avaria, who was at the war with Ibrahim Chan, was suing for
Zuleikha's hand, which was promised by the father should he return
triumphant from the campaign. This would render prompt action
desirable, and Fatima suggested that Mirza-Schaffy should appear on
the following evening, when the call to prayer resounded from the
minaret, before the garden with his choicest offering of song, to
which, the messenger was ready to wager, would be accorded a rosebud.
Intoxicated with joy, Mirza-Schaffy bestowed on the friendly Fatima
his purse, his watch and all the valuables about him, also promising a
talisman to cure a black spot on her left cheek; and they parted
with the understanding that they should meet, again for further
communication.

And here, in exemplification of the learned scribe's rejoinders to
his pupil's queries concerning the significance of the thorn of
displeasure and the rosebud, is introduced the song:

The thorn is token of rejection,
Of disapproval and of scorn:
If she to union hath objection,
She giveth me as sign a thorn.

Yet if, instead, the maiden throws me
A tender rosebud as a token,
That fate propitious is it shows me,
And bids me wait with faith unbroken.

But if a full-blown rose she tenders,
Its open chalice is a token
Which boldest hope in me engenders;
Through it her love is clearly spoken.

On the ensuing evening Mirza-Schaffy presented himself promptly at
the appointed place, prepared with a love-song which he knew none of
womankind could re