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her dress, and squatted beside him, and said, “O youth, thou hast been thwacked!”

He groaned, lifting not his face, nor saying aught. Then said she, “Art thou truly in search of great things, O youth?”

Still he groaned, answering no syllable. And she continued, “ ’Tis surely in sweet friendliness I ask. Art thou not a fair youth, one to entice a damsel to perfect friendliness?”

Louder yet did he groan at her words, thinking, “A damsel, verily!” So the old woman said, “I wot thou art angry with me; but now look up, O nephew of the barber! no time for vexation. What says the poet?⁠—

“ ‘Cares the warrior for his wounds
When the steed in battle bounds?’

“Moreover:

“ ‘Let him who grasps the crown strip not for shame,
Lest he expose what gain’d it blow and maim!’

“So be it with thee and thy thwacking, O foolish youth! Hide it from thyself, thou silly one! What! thou hast been thwacked, and refusest the fruit of it⁠—which is resoluteness, strength of mind, sternness in pursuit of the object!”

Then she softened her tone to persuasiveness, saying, “ ’Twas written I should be the head of thy fortune, O Shibli Bagarag! and thou’lt be enviable among men by my aid, so look upon me, and (for I know thee famished) thou shalt presently be supplied with viands and bright wines and sweetmeats, delicacies to cheer thee.”

Now, the promise of food and provision was powerful with Shibli Bagarag, and he looked up gloomily. And the old woman smiled archly at him, and wriggled in her seat like a dusty worm, and said, “Dost thou find me charming, thou fair youth?”

He was nigh laughing in her face, but restrained himself to reply, “Thou art that thou art!”

Said she, “Not so, but that I shall be.” Then she said, “O youth, pay me now a compliment!”

Shibli Bagarag was at a loss what further to say to the old woman, for his heart cursed her for her persecutions, and ridiculed her for her vanities. At last he bethought himself of the saying of the poet, truly the offspring of fine wit, where he says:

“Expect no flatteries from me,
While I am empty of good things;
I’ll call thee fair, and I’ll agree
Thou boldest Love in silken strings,
When thou hast primed me from thy plenteous store!
But, oh! till then a clod am I:
No seed within to throw up flowers:
All’s drouthy to the fountain dry:
To empty stomachs Nature lowers:
The lake was full where heaven look’d fair of yore!”

So, when he had spoken that, the old woman laughed and exclaimed, “Thou art apt! it is well said! Surely I excuse thee till that time! Now listen! ’Tis written we work together, and I know it by divination. Have I not known thee wandering, and on thy way to this city of Shagpat, where thou’lt some day sit throned? Now I propose to thee this⁠—and ’tis an excellent proposal⁠—that I lead thee to great things, and make thee glorious, a sitter in high seats, Master of an Event?”

Cried he, “A proposal honourable to thee, and pleasant in the ear.”

She added, “Provided thou marry me in sweet marriage.”

Thereat he stared on vacancy with a serious eye, and he could scarce credit her earnestness, but she repeated the same. So presently he thought, “This old hag appeareth deep in the fountain of events, and she will be a right arm to me in the mastering of one, a torch in darkness, seeing there is wisdom in her as well as wickedness. The thwackings?⁠—sad was their taste, but they’re in the road leading to greatness, and I cannot say she put me out of that road in putting me where they were. Her age?⁠—shall I complain of that when it is a sign she goeth shortly altogether?”

As he was thus debating he regarded the old woman stealthily, and she was in agitation, so that her joints creaked like forest branches in a wind, and the puckers of her visage moved as do billows of the sea to and fro, and the anticipations of a fair young bride are not more eager than what was visible in the old woman. Wheedlingly she looked at him, and shaped her mouth like a bird’s bill to soften it; and she drew together her dress, to give herself the look of slimness, using all fascinations. He thought, “ ’Tis a wondrous old woman! Marriage would seem a thing of moment to her, yet is the profit with me, and I’ll agree to it.” So he said, “ ’Tis a pact between us, O old woman!”

Now, the eyes of the old woman brightened when she heard him, and were as the eyes of a falcon that eyeth game, hungry with red fire, and she looked brisk with impatience, laughing a low laugh and saying, “O youth, I must claim of thee, as is usual in such cases, the kiss of contract.”

So Shibli Bagarag was mindful of what is written,

“If thou wouldst take the great leap, be ready for the little jump,”

and he stretched out his mouth to the forehead of the old woman. When he had done so, it was as though she had been illuminated, as when light is put in the hollow of a pumpkin. Then said she, “This is well! this is a fair beginning! Now look, for thy fortune will of a surety follow. Call me now sweet bride, and knocker at the threshold of hearts!”

So Shibli Bagarag sighed, and called her this, and he said, “Forget not my condition, O old woman, and that I am nigh famished.”

Upon that she nodded gravely, and arose and shook her garments together, and beckoned for Shibli Bagarag to follow her; and the two passed through the gates of the city, and held on together through diverse streets and thoroughfares till they came before the doors of a palace with a pillared entrance; and the old woman passed through the doors of the palace as one familiar to

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