The Prince of Bokhara had a Vakil who, through fear of punishment for an offence he had committed, ran away and remained concealed in Kuhistan and the desert for the space of ten years. At the end of that time, being unable to endure absence from his lord and his home any longer, he determined to return to Bokhara and throw himself at his lord's feet, and endure whatever punishment his lord might be pleased to inflict upon him. His friends did all they could to dissuade him, assuring him that the Prince's wrath was still hot against him, and that if he appeared at Bokhara he would be put to death, or at least imprisoned for the rest of his life. He replied, "O advisers, be silent, for the force of the love which is drawing me to Bokhara is stronger than the force of prudent counsels. When love pulls one way all the wisdom of Abu Hanifa and Ash-Shafi'i is impotent to withstand it. If it shall please my lord to slay me, I will yield up my life without reluctance, for this life of estrangement from him which I am now leading is the same as death, and release from it will be eternal happiness. I will return to Bokhara and throw myself at my lord's feet, and say to him, 'Deal with me as thou wilt, for I can no longer bear absence from thee, and life or death at thy hands is all the same to me!'" Accordingly, he journeyed back to Bokhara, counting the very toils and discomforts of the road sweet and delightful, because they were steps in his homeward course. When he reached Bokhara his friends and relations all warned him not to show himself, as the Prince was still mindful of his offence and bent on punishing him; but he replied to them as to his other advisers, that he was utterly regardless of his life, and was resolved to commit himself to his lord's good pleasure. He then went to the court and threw himself at his lord's feet and swooned away. The Prince, seeing the strong affection borne to him by his repentant servant, conceived a similar affection towards him, and descended from his throne and graciously raised him from the ground, and pardoned his offence. Thus it is that eternal life is gained by utter abandonment of one's own life. When God appears to His ardent lover the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains. True lovers are as shadows, and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away. He is a true lover of God to whom God says, "I am thine, and thou art mine!" In the course of this story, which is narrated at great length, are introduced anecdotes of a lover and his mistress, of the Virgin Mary being visited by the "Blessed Spirit" or Angel Gabriel, of the fatal mosque, of Galen's devotion to carnal learning, of Satan's treachery to the men of Mecca at the battle of Bedr, and of Solomon and the gnat. There also occur comments on various texts, and a curious comparison of the trials and wholesome afflictions of the righteous to the boiling of potherbs in a saucepan by the cook. The reply of the lover when asked by his mistress which city of all those he had seen was most pleasing in his sight.

(62) And fool-like has plunged therein and lost his life." But the torch of love is not like that torch, 'Tis light, light in the midst of light, 'Tis the reverse of torches of fire, It appears to be fire, but is all sweetness. Love generates love. "If ye love God, God will love you" That. Bokharian then cast himself into the flame, But his love made the pain endurable; And as his burning sighs ascended to heaven, The heart of man is like the root of a tree,

(41) O Iover, 'twas love that gave life to Mount Sinai, When "it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon." Did my Beloved only touch me with his lips, I too, like the flute, would burst out in melody. But he who is parted from them that speak his tongue, Though he possess a hundred voices, is perforce dumb. When the rose has faded and the garden is withered, The BELOVED is all in all, the lover only veils Him; The BELOVED is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.

(161) I have never tasted wine sweeter than this poison, No health can be sweeter than this sickness! No devotion is better than this sin (of love), Years are as a moment compared to this moment!" Long time he dwelt with the King in this manner, With burning heart, as a lively sacrifice. Thus his life passed, yet he gained not the union He wished. Patient waiting consumed him, his soul could not bear it; The form of his earthly Beloved was hidden from him; He departed, and found union with his Spiritual Beloved.

A lover was once admitted to the presence of his mistress, but, instead of embracing her, he pulled out a paper of sonnets and read them to her, describing her perfections and charms and his own love towards her at length. His mistress said to him, "You are now in my presence, and these lover's sighs and invocations are a waste of time. It is not the part of a true lover to waste his time in this way. It shows that I am not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures. I see, as it were, the water which I have longed for before me, and yet you withhold it. I am, as it were, in Bulgaria, and the object of your love is in Cathay. One who is really loved is the single object of her lover, the Alpha and Omega of his desires. As for you, you are wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings, instead of being wrapped up in me." The true mystic must not stop at mere subjective religious emotions, but seek absolute union with God.

(82) I tell the tale of Saba in lovers' style. When the breeze bore Solomon's words to that garden, 'Twas as when bodies meet souls at the resurrection, The people of love are hidden amongst the peoples, Souls are disgraced by union with bodies, Arise, O lovers; this sweet draught is yours; Ye are they that endure; eternal life is yours. Ho! ye that seek, arise and take your fill of love, Snuff up that perfume of Yusuf! Approach, O Solomon, thou that knowest birds' language,

(42) Sings to me in organ tones, 'To him shall we return.' Like a water-lily seek life there! Yea, like that drawer of water, at the risk of life, Water will be his death, yet he still seeks water, And still drinks on, and God knows what is right. O lover, cold-hearted and void of loyalty, Who from fear for your life shun the beloved! O base one, behold a hundred thousand souls Dancing towards the deadly sword of his love: Behold water in a pitcher; pour it out;

(10) To slay their own people from envy! Lovers of sweethearts have conceived jealousy, And attempted one another's lives, Read " Wais and Ramin" and "Khosrau and Shirin" Lovers and beloved have both perished; And not themselves only, but their love as well. 'Tis God alone who agitates these nonentities In the heart that is no heart envy comes to a head,

The poet now returns to the story of Mahmud and Ayaz, which is continued at intervals till the end of the book. The king inquired of Ayaz what made him continually visit his old shoes and garments, as Majnun used to visit his Laila, or as a Christian regularly visits his priest to obtain absolution for his sins. Why should he call to these dead things, like a fond mother calling to her dead infant, were it not that faith and love made them, as it were, living beings to him? The eye sees what it brings with it to see; it can see nothing but what it has gained the faculty of seeing. Thus the face of Laila, which seemed so lovely to the eyes of Majnun, made clairvoyant by love, seemed to strangers to have no claims to beauty. The earthly forms which here surround us are, as it were, vessels fraught with spiritual wine, only visible to those who have learnt to discern the deep things of the Spirit.

(121) Mere nothings before eternal Being? If we are drunkards or madmen, 'Tis that Cup-bearer and that Cup which make us so. We bow down our heads before His edict and ordinance, While the thought of the Beloved fills our hearts, All our work is to do Him service and spend life for Him. Wherever He kindles His destructive torch, Myriads of lovers' souls are burnt therewith. The lovers who dwell within the sanctuary Are moths burnt with the torch of the Beloved's face."

(72) In a fit state to see the vision of Thyself? When our hearts are bewitched by Thy smiles and frowns, Can we gain life from these two alternating states? The fertile garden of love, as it is boundless, The true lover is exalted above these two states, He is fresh and green independently of autumn or spring! Pay tithe on Thy beauty, O Beauteous One! Tell forth the tale of the Beloved, every whit! For through coquetry His glances I gave Him leave to shed my blood, if He willed it;

(11) Let him who lacks this fire be accounted dead! 'Tis the fire of love that inspires the flute,l 'Tis the ferment of love that possesses the wine. The flute is the confidant of all unhappy lovers; Yea, its strains lay bare my inmost secrets. Who hath seen a poison and an antidote like the flute? Who hath seen a sympathetic consoler like the flute? The flute tells the tale of love's bloodstained path, It recounts the story of Majnun's love toils. None is privy to these feelings save one distracted,

(1) A loved one said to her lover to try him, Early one morning, "O such an one, son of such an one, I marvel whether you hold me more dear, Or yourself; tell me truly, O ardent suitor!" He answered, "I am so entirely absorbed in you, Of my own existence nothing but the name remains In my being is nothing besides you, O Object of desire! Therefore am I thus lost in you, Just as vinegar is absorbed in honey; Or as a stone, which is changed into a pure ruby, In that stone its own properties abide not

(34) Behold two young People, who have attained unto the that it be kindled, how very hearty, faithful, and pure Love they bear one towards another, where one is ready to impart the very Heart within them to the other, if it could be done without Death; this now is the true paradisical Blossom, and this Blossom qualifies, with the [one] Element and Paradise. But as soon as ever they take one another, and copulate, they infect one another with their a Inflammation [or burning Lust,] which is generated out of the outward Elements and Stars, and that reaches the Abyss; and so they are many Times at deadly Enmity [or have venomous spiteful Hatred] one against another. And though it happens that their Complexions were noble, so that still some Love remains, yet it is not so pure and faithful as the first before Copulation, which is fiery, and that in the Burning [or burnt] Lust, [is] earthly and cold, for that must indeed keep faithful while it cannot be otherwise; as it is seen by Experience in many, how afterward in Wedlock they hunt after Whoredom, and seek after the Devil's Sugar, which he strows in the noble Tincture, if Man will let him.

THE fourth book begins with an address to Husamu-'d-Din, and this is followed by the story of the lover and his mistress, already commenced in the third book. A certain lover had been separated from his mistress for the space of seven years, during which he never relaxed his efforts to find her. At last his constancy and perseverance were rewarded, in accordance with the promises "The seeker shall find," and "Whoso shall have wrought an atom's weight of good shall behold it." One night, as he was wandering through the city, he was pursued by the patrol, and, in order to escape them, took refuge in a garden, where he found his long-sought mistress. This occasioned him to reflect how often men "hate the things that are good for them," and led him to bless the rough patrol who had procured him the bliss of meeting with his mistress. Apropos of this, an anecdote is told of a preacher who was in the habit of blessing robbers and oppressors, because their evil example had turned him to righteousness. The moment the lover found himself alone with his mistress, he attempted to embrace her, but his mistress repulsed him, saying, that though no men 'were present, yet the wind was blowing and that showed that God, the mover of the wind, was also present. The lover replied, "It may be I am lacking in good manners, but I am not lacking in constancy and fidelity towards you." His mistress replied, "One must judge of the hidden by the manifest; I see for myself that your outward behavior is bad, and thence I cannot but infer that your boast of hidden virtues is not warranted by actual facts. You are ashamed to misconduct yourself in the sight of men, but have no scruple to do so in the presence of the All-seeing God, and hence I doubt the existence of the virtuous sentiments which you claim to possess, but which can only be known to yourself." To illustrate this, she told the story of a Sufi and his faithless wife. This wife was one day entertaining a paramour, when she was surprised by the sudden return of her husband. On the spur of the moment she threw a woman's dress over her paramour and presented him to her husband as a rich lady who had come to propose a marriage between her son and the Sufi's daughter, saying she did not care for wealth, but only regarded modesty and rectitude of conduct. To this the Sufi replied, that as from her coming unattended it was plain that the lady had not the wealth she pretended to have, it was more than probable that her pretensions to extraordinary modesty and humility were also fictitious. The lover then proceeded to excuse himself by the plea that he had wished to test his mistress, and ascertain for himself whether she was a modest woman or not. He said he of course knew beforehand that she would prove to be a modest woman, but still he wished to have ocular demonstration of the fact. His mistress reproved him for trying to deceive her with false pretences, assuring him that, after he had been detected in a fault, his only proper course was to confess it, as Adam had done. Moreover, she added that an attempt to put her to the test would have been an extremely unworthy proceeding, only to be paralleled by Abu Jahl's attempt to prove the truth of the Prophet's claims by calling on him to perform a miracle.

(6) And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery, and that thy Teacher knows. But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral. Alone we were and without any fear. Full many a time our eyes together drew That reading, and drove the colour from our faces; But one point only was it that o'ercame us. When as we read of the much-longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided, Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. That day no farther did we read therein." And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying, And fell, even as a dead body falls.

(50) When the lover feels no longer LOVE's quickening, He becomes like a bird who has lost its wings. Alas! How can I retain my senses about me, When the BELOVED shows not the light of His countenance? LOVE desires that this secret should be revealed, For if a mirror reflects not, of what use is it? Knowest thou why thy mirror reflects not? If it were purified from all rust and defilement, O friends, ye have now heard this tale,

A certain king dreamed that his dearly beloved son, a youth of great promise, had come to an untimely end. On awaking he was rejoiced to find that his son was still alive; but he reflected that an accident might carry him off at any moment, and therefore decided to marry him without delay, in order that the succession might be secured. Accordingly he chose the daughter of a pious Darvesh as a bride for his son, and made preparations for the wedding. But his wife and the other ladies of his harem did not approve of the match, considering it below the dignity of the prince to marry the daughter of a beggar. The king rebuked them, saying that a Darvesh who had renounced worldly wealth for the sake of God was not to be confounded with an ordinary beggar, and insisted on the consummation of the marriage. After the marriage the prince refused to have anything to do with his bride, though she was very fair to look on, and he carried on an intrigue with an ugly old woman who had bewitched him by sorcery. After a year, however, the king found some physicians who succeeded in breaking the spell, and the prince returned to his senses, and his eyes were opened to the superior attractions of his wife, and he renounced his ugly paramour and fell in love with his wife. This is a parable, the true wife being the Deity, the old paramour the world, and the physicians the prophets and saints. Another illustration is a child who played at besieging a mimic fort with his fellows, and succeeded in capturing it and keeping the others out. At this moment God "bestowed on him wisdom, though a child," and it became to him a day "when a man flees from his brethren," and he recognized the emptiness of this idle sport, and engaged in the pursuit of holiness and piety. This is followed by an anecdote of a devotee who had so concentrated his thoughts on things above that he was utterly careless of all earthly troubles, and was cheerful and rejoicing even in the midst of a severe famine. The world is the outward form of "Universal Reason" (Muhammad), and he who grieves him must expect trouble in the world.

(5) Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue. Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me. Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us. As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?" When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!" Then unto them I turned me, and I spake, And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca, Sad and compassionate to weeping make me. But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, By what and in what manner Love conceded, That you should know your dubious desires?"

(34) The lover's love is visible, his Beloved hidden. The Friend is absent, the distraction he causes present. Renounce these affections for outward forms, Whatever is beloved is not a mere empty form, Whatever be the form you have fallen in love with, Why do you forsake it the moment life leaves it? The form is still there; whence, then, this disgust at it? Ah! lover, consider well what is really your beloved. If a thing perceived by outward senses is the beloved, Then all who retain their senses must still love it; And since love increases constancy,